In the Darkest Place
by theabbycadabra
Summary: Hermione Granger would do anything to save the world, even if it means going back in time. Posing as a slow-witted transfer student who needs "extra help" from 15 year old Severus Snape himself, Hermione tries to save Snape from his corruption with darkness. What she doesn't know is that the dark attraction she feels for him will lead to something more than what meets the eye
1. Chapter 1

*squeaks* um i'm new to writing in this fandom

*peeps digital head out from kittenshift17's amazing fanfics* pls enjoy!

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 _CHAPTER ONE_

 _HOGWARTS, 1975_

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"Severus, let me explain before you do anything rash," Dumbledore says softly, trying to calm down the infuriated Slytherin in front of him. His voice is soothing but the warning behind it is unmistakable. "If I were you, I would not lose your temper so quickly over something so childish and petty. This is besides your character."

The gangly fifteen year old with the hooked nose seethes.

The Headmaster wants him, Severus Snape, a renown Dark Arts enthusiast, to offer his knowledge and help tutor...a _Gryffindor_?

The more Snape thinks about it, anger bubbles up inside of him like a volcano and he resists the urge to whip out of his wand and hex the Headmaster into oblivion. Dumbledore, so praised for his knowledge and wisdom, is finally off his rocker. Snape's face reddens and his fingers itch for his wand. Dumbledore raises an eyebrow, as if he is challenging the fifth year to further test his patience.

Severus balls his fists in the sleeves of his robe and glares at the Headmaster. "I never realized that you perceived my character as someone who would be bloody ecstatic to _help_ a retarded, puffed-up Gryffindor, _sir_ ," he says coldly, attaching Dumbledore's title of respect almost mockingly. His charcoal eyes flash in defiance. "I think it is safe to say that this is your worst error in judgement. I'm sure you've heard of all the curses I have reserved for the lazy and insufferable Gryffindors...trust me, they are not pleasant." He lets out a dark laugh.

The Headmaster stares unchangingly at Severus, showing no expression that acknowledges Snape's threats. He presses his fingertips together and peers at Severus over his half-moon spectacles. "Mr. Snape, it is not wise to threaten the safety of my students in front of my face. I'm sure you know how... _protective_ of my students I can be."

Severus growls, seeing through Dumbledore's double-edged words. When Snape had figured out Lupin's dark secret of lycanthropy, Dumbledore had offered him the incentive of expulsion to protect Lupin, one of his _oh so_ precious and prized students.

"Yes, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore says sharply, knowing that Snape had understood him clearly. "I am not afraid to expel you from Hogwarts, if it threatens the safety of my students. I understand that you believe you are above tutoring our new transfer, who has unfortunately been sorted into Gryffindor. Your rather pitiful experiences with other Gryffindor, such as _James Potter_ -" Snape snarls and lunges at the Headmaster, bracing himself on Dumbledore's desk so he glowers straight into those blue eyes, "-do not define all other Gryffindor. Take Lily Evans, perhaps. Lovely girl, is she not?"

The Headmaster watches Severus's charcoal orbs soften for a split second. "So Severus, do not allow yourself to be swept away in this inter-house rivalry..." Dumbledore's blue eyes fade into a far-awake look, as if he knows more than Severus can possibly imagine. Which, as infuriating as it is, is true. "You will only find yourself suffering more as time passes."

"I am _not_ suffering," Severus snaps defensively, "and it's the damn Gryffindors who are-"

"Mr. Snape, I am not here with you to discuss who carries the blame for the ever-existing hatred between Slytherin and Gryffindor," Dumbledore says firmly, "But rather so, since you seem to understand the consequences of questioning my orders, let us get down to business. The transfer student's name is Hermione Granger, and the fact that she is a transfer student speaks for itself on why she needs extra aid. She is a Muggleborn but is quite well-adjusted with ma-"

"Professor," Severus demands, irritation dripping from his eyes, "pair the damn Mudblood up with Lily Evans. You know how bright Evans is; I just don't understand why I have to be the one who-"

"Do _not_ use that language in front of me, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore says sharply, eyes flashing dangerously, "Your prejudice towards all Muggleborns besides Lily Evans shows your absolute disregard for Ms. Evans. If Ms. Evans hadn't extended a kind hand towards you, you would be using that filthy language to her just the same. Do _not_ use Ms. Evans kindness as an excuse to treat any other Muggleborns besides Ms. Evans any differently."

Snape opens his mouth to say something bitingly rude, but Dumbledore raises his finger and quells the fifth year.

"I do not have to explain my choices on why _you_ must tutor Ms. Granger. You are far too arrogant and caught up in darkness to understand, even if I did explain. Ms. Granger is waiting for you in the library right now. I suggest you two figure out what needs to be established," Dumbledore orders, voice ringing with a tone of finality, "I suggest you go to the library _now_ and keep Ms. Granger from waiting any longer. You _need_ her."

Snape shakes his head in disgust as he storms out the door; the old man was losing his mind...the dumb Mudblood needed Severus, not the other way around. Why would Snape ever need, a Mudblood, even worse, a Gryffindor?

* * *

Hermione waits impatiently in the library, left alone but with all of her thoughts. She can't wrap her head around the fact that she is twenty years back in the past, but the library lacks about a third of the books it will have and Madam Pince's youth is undeniable.

She watches the students, unable to suppress her curiosity. She has yet to run into the Marauders or Lily Evans (who all seem like fairytale characters), but she thinks she can see faint traces of the Hogwarts students she used to go to school with in the students around her. There's a ring of familiarity from a girl with a face full of freckles and the boy with the scruffy hair.

Dumbledore's words echo ominously in her head, as if warning her to stay on track.

She lets out a nervous sigh, unable to suppress the worries she has for the mission. She closes her eyes, remembering the warm office when she had been summoned for the crucial mission assigned to her...

"Ms. Granger," Dumbledore had said, after their brief greeting, "I fear that Voldemort is becoming stronger and stronger everyday. I understand that Harry is the only hope to saving the Wizarding World, and I have tried my best to train him, but I believe if things go...wrong, we need someone else who we can rely on."

Hermione cocked her head. "Sir? You can't be implying...me?"

Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles to peer into her eyes. "Ms. Granger, you understand that Mr. Pettigrew's cowardice led to the death of Lily and James Potter. But this is all viewed on the spectrum of events; one thing leads to another." He watched her eyes cloud in confusion before offering her another clue. "It is not Peter Pettigrew who ultimately killed the Potters...so who can it be?"

Hermione blinked, unable to decipher what the Headmaster was trying to get at. She hated the uncertainty that also came with knowledge; there was logic and there was the ability to comprehensively understand things from a rather wide point of view, which Hermione lacked.

"Sir, I'm not following. If Peter Pettigrew had not betrayed the Potters, the matter at hand would not have been anything like what it is...Unless you are implying what led up to the events, that would only leave..." Hermione hesitates and lowers her eyes. "Professor Snape at hand for revealing the prophecy regarding Harry to Voldemort."

"Precisely, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling. "This situation at hand is as simple as the domino effect. One thing leads to another; Snape revealed the prophecy and the Potters were sent into hiding. I'm certain Mr. Potter has revealed the details in full to you already. _However_ , as we continue to watch this tragic tale as we watch dominos, all of this would have been prevented if..."

 _If Pettigrew wasn't a bloody coward_ , Hermione wanted to say, but she knew it was not the answer Dumbledore is looking for. She hated the guesswork that Dumbledore put into everything; if she had read a book about the twisted situation they were in from a trustable source, she would have been able to spout answers in full. Books left no room for guesswork; they were composed of facts, period.

"Sir, given the circumstances, Pettigrew was the last push that caused the Potter's deaths. If Snape never revealed the prophecy to Lord Voldemort, perhaps that would have prevented the chaos that is going on now, but I believe it would be far more logical to impose that if Pettigrew had not been such a coward, this would not have happened."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps, Ms. Granger. But I will have to correct you in your way of thinking. We Gryffindors find it easier to pin the blame onto who seems to be the enemy of the situation, in this case, Peter Pettigrew. Ours mind are far too narrow to see the situation in its wholeness, therefore causing us to focus our whole attention onto an insignificant yet crucial part of the story. And Ms. Granger, given that you are highly logical, I am sad to say this effects you most than others."

Hermione pinks and stares at her toes.

"But we are not here to point out your flaws, as I am riddled with too many just the same. I'm sure your lack of knowledge regarding the past, which in its entirety is not your fault, contributes to your struggle to fish out the answer." he says kindly, and Hermione shifts her gaze from her shoes to the Headmaster for a second. "But to answer the point I was trying to get at, the first domino to fall is in fact Severus Snape. Had he not meddled in the Dark Arts or joined Voldemort's forces, the situation at hand would have been very different."

Hermione nods slowly and the furrow in her brow still remains. "But sir...Professor Snape is already a Death Eater, and had meddled in the Dark Arts long before any of this happened. I don't understand why you are telling me this information. It is not like it can be prevented because..."

Her brown eyes follow the object that dangles in Dumbledore's hands and her eyes widen. "You don't...perhaps...?" The Time-Turner glinted in the light reflected from the windows.

"Yes Ms. Granger. Another reason why I insist Peter Pettigrew's betrayal is not the best time in place to travel back to. It leaves too much room for risk and accidents, " Dumbledore gravely said, before dropping the bomb on her. "I believe with your courage and your knowledge, _you_ are most capable in going back in time and changing what is wrong. Stopping Severus from meddling with the Dark Arts is very important, and I understand this is a great burden, but this will be your mission..."

He paused, giving her time to register the information, but when he began speaking again, everything dissolved to a blur.

Hermione is pulled back into the present abruptly when a cold hand snatches her wrist. She lets out a squeak of surprise as she stumbles out of her chair, being forcefully dragged by a black-haired boy whose face she cannot make out. She stumbles to stay on her feet and tries to grab her wand at the same time, but the boy pulls her into a dark section of the library.

She wonders for a split second in the midst of the nerves; can it be _him_?

"Let me go _now_ ," she says shrilly, trying to release his iron grip. "Who the hell do you-" He slams a cold hand against her mouth and shoves her against the wall, her spine painfully colliding. She lets out a whimper of pain and is momentarily subdued from fighting. Stars spin in her vision; the toll time travel took on her body was unpleasant, but when coupled with manhandling, it made things far more worse.

Her wand, which is tucked in her waistband, jabs into her skin painfully. She tries to regain control over her brain, which has decided to go haywire. All she can see is dark spots and scattered stars, but as she continues to stare, a definite shape of a boy's face begins to clear...

She blinks again, and finds herself staring up into the face of Severus Snape.

She mouth opens in surprise.

Hermione can't register anything at the moment; not the cold hands that grip both her wrists, the hard chest pressed up against her's, or the dig of his hips against her's. All she can see if the face of her Professor, strangely boyish and...oddly charming.

She stammers in disbelief, face turning red. Snape's face is still the same, the only difference is the absence of any wrinkles. Where his hard pressed lines on his forehead and mouth were supposed to be only leaves a canvas of milky white skin.

She drinks in his features like water; he's scowling at her with a twisted mouth and furrowed brows, and his eyes still glint with the usual malice. His dark hair barely ghosts over his shoulders and she detects hints of timber and marine accord coming from him.

It's odd that she finds the scent attractive.

"I'm certain you know who I am," he hisses venemously, "So let's cut to the chase. If you think for a second, that I will be tutoring you, a stupid Gryffindor _Mudblood_ , you better think again. No way am I wasting my time and breath on a retarded Gryffindor, and I suggest you tell Dumbledore _nothing_ about this, because I am not afraid of you or the old fool." He glowers at her and whips his wand out with his free hand, pressing it against her throat.

Any notion of finding her fresh-faced and youthful professor attractive disappears as quickly as they began.

Her disbelief is slowly traded with rage, and fills every inch of her body. She's risked her life and gave up on her future to save Snape from becoming a Death Eater, and _this_ is what she has to work with? He's still the git he used to be, only two times worse.

How _dare_ he treat her like scum and how _dare_ he speak to her this way?

All the pent up emotion inside of her bubbles and threatens to spill out; she has no definite chance of seeing Harry or Ron again, or _ever_ returning to the life she used to have. She's stuck in this mission of saving a slimy git from murdering his childhood crush, and it seems damn near impossible.

Dumbledore put his faith into her, thinking Hermione was the one for the mission, but she has no clue what she's doing.

She's utterly helpless and lost.

Hermione trembles in rage and she shoves him - or well, tries to shove him - and only ends up stumbling him a few paces back. She pulls out her wand and jabs it at Snape, eyes glinting with rage. "You're still the slimy git you used to be and you might as well be damned if you push me out of your life. Don't you _dare_ speak to me that way, you bloody murderer, because I'm trying to save your life. I'm guessing you believe you have the right to treat me this way because of your reputation of being called a Death Eater and your obsession with Dark Arts, but trust me, I am the _last_ person you want to treat this way. And I don't need to tattle on Dumbledore to protect me because I am perfectly capable on dealing with slimy bastards like you."

His eyes mirror his disbelief and his face reddens in rage. It's like he's momentarily forgotten about his wand, which Hermione is sure, he can use to hex her into oblivion. He is far too livid and set aback to do so.

Hermione should be afraid at the growing insanity in Snape's black orbs, but her temper fuels her courage. It doesn't dawn on Hermione that her temper may have revealed too much information; she's too busy staring daggers right back into Snape's black eyes.

Snape lunges at her without warning, and it sends sprawled on the ground as he straddles her her. She gasps in pain; the air was knocked out of her as her back hit the floor. She lets out a breathy cry of pain at the sudden weight on her stomach. He slams her wand out of her hand. His eyes flash with danger and he pins her struggling arms to the ground.

"Tell me how you know so much about me, _now_! Is it one of Dumbledore's tricks, or did Potter set you up to this? Make a fool out of the Slytherin so you perhaps can have a snog session with Black? Tell me!"

Hermione lets out a dark laugh that ripples of derision, despite the piercing pain in her side. She grabs the tip of the wand. "You're pathetic. I _dare_ you to hex me, you insufferable git. Let's see what Dumbledore does with your pathetic head after you do."

A yell of rage disturbs the tense moment of silence and pent-up emotion.

" _What is going on here?"_ a loud shout echoes and Hermione stares at the towering figure of Madam Pince. She's still as terrifying and insane, Hermione notes, even twenty years before. She quickly dismisses the thought as she approaches the two like a rapid bear.

"Never in my life have I seen such vile behavior, in the library of all sorts! Raising your voices and hiding behind a bookshelf like it's an empty classroom! Both of you, out _now_!" Her face is puce with rage and her wand trembles in her hand. Snape shoots one last glower at Hermione before stalking off, leaving Hermione to get up and scramble for her wand.

"A disgrace! So disrespectful!" Madam Pince howls, sending books flying at Snape and Hermione's heads. Hermione quickens her pace to a run and follows Snape, whose cloak is billowing out behind him. She can hear him muttering darkly and she stalks him out of the library.

"Don't think this is over, you insufferable git," Hermione says coolly, hot on the Slytherin's trail. "Stop right there."

He turns on his heel suddenly and glowers at her. " _You are an idiot_. You're a puffed up Gryffindor who would do anything to please a group of brainless, childish boys. I'll hex you without second thought, _Mudblood_. Do you think I'm that-"

"Listen, _Snivellus_ ," Hermione growls, using Snape's nickname that she learned from Harry, "My name is Granger, first of all. I don't appreciate being called Mudblood or being treated like I'm a pile of hippogriff shit. I don't get _what_ your deal is, and trust me, I'm not eager to find out. As much as I _despise_ the fact that Dumbledore has assigned me a tutor with the likes of you, don't think this is the last you'll be seeing-"

She falters, stopping in mid-anger, head suddenly spinning. A wave of nausea drowns her and she stumbles against the wall. Dark spots play around in her vision and the edges of her vision go fuzzy. Dumbledore had advised her to go easy on herself for the next few days because of the side affects of time travel, but she didn't think losing her temper would spark such a great toll on her body. She should have been more careful, especially after being slammed against a wall and knocked to the ground.

Everything floods back to her in an instant.

Something dark engulfs her and she passes out into the unassuming arms of Severus Snape.


	2. Chapter 2

**edit: i'm so sorry for the confusing updates. when i uploaded chapter two (which i did twice), when i clicked the uRL and checked the hp stories, my story wasn't there! chapter two didn't post i think but it came up on the preview? im not entirely sure what's up, but so sorry for the malfunctions. please review if you see this chapter!**

 _*_ scowls* so i saw your reviews regarding a "replica" of my story, so i thought i would clear things up a bit

i do not write under another name, and the author who you've seen upload my work was just _plagiarizing_ everything. i've contacted the author already, and she's apologized and decided to take down my story. i didn't want you guys to get confused, so i decided to clear that up.

*realizes that i started the story without even greeting or thanking you guys properly*

 _*_ smiles awkwardly and waves* im baack & i just wanna thank you guys for everything

the positive results i got really motivated me to update as quickly as i can! you guys have no idea how much each and every one of you mean to me

big shout out to everyone who reviewed, favorited, followed, and to the person who added me in a community!:)

ive decided to upload this onto Archie of Our Own after one of your suggestions, but the invitation i requested which will prob take forever to go through, so that sucks

*blushes when people scroll past the AN* sorry to bore you guys, have some cookies and enjoy !

(::) (::) (::)

* * *

 _CHAPTER TWO_

 _SUPPLY CLOSET, 1975_

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Hermione's nose stings of chemicals and her eyelids flutter slightly in the dim light. She feels sore and groggy, as if she's been thrown against a wall.

The thought makes her blood run cold.. _Thrown against a wall_? she wonders in suspicion, and in a blur, everything in her recollection sharpens. Visions flash past her eyes; the Time-Turner, the pale-faced git who had attacked her, Dumbledore and the mission he assigned her, a monstrous Madam Pince...

Hermione groans and clamps her eyes shut, wanting to scream and cry at the same time. She's still stuck in this hellhole called 1975.

She hasn't noticed the faint tingling on the back of her neck until it prickles more insistently. She winces and resists the urge to rub her neck.

 _That's strange_ , she muses, unable to think clearly or identify the reason being in the muddled mess of her brain.

She only gets the feeling when...when...she is being watched. She tenses and tries to sort through her thoughts; the smell of chemicals would indicate a janitor's closet, perhaps abandoned. Could the Slytherins already have found out about her Muggleborn status and already acted on it? Had Snape ratted her out on them so she could be dealt with easily?

Her back is cold from being propped up against the wall, with her legs spread out in front of her. The jab in her spine indicates that her kidnapper hadn't taken her wand. She would have to act fast.

As she stays still and listens quietly, a soft voice cuts through the silence.

"I know you're awake," a silky, smooth voice that could only belong to Severus Snape says, "You don't have to pretend otherwise. You Gryffindors have never been sneaky, tch. So uninformed and pathetic when it comes to survival. They think brawn rather than brains solves it all." He tuts, mocking the girl in vindictive pleasure.

Hermione forces her eyes open and glares at the slimy Slytherin who crouches in front of her. Her head is pounding sluggishly, leaving her feeling too sick to get angry with him. Being called stupid or incapable was always a low blow directed towards her, but she ignores the jibe stubbornly, and refocuses her attention to doing a quick scan of the place.

The smell of timber and smoke and sage overrides her senses and she tries to ignore the tempting scent.

She was right - she thinks rather smugly, an attempt to heal her wounded ego regarding her smarts - she is in a supply closet that was abandoned, judging from its grimy and poor state. A lightbulb hangs on a single string, casting a dim light around them.

She wiggles her arms and legs, wondering if the sly git put a spell on her. She tries to stretch her arms out above her but her wrists sear when raised over her head. She lets out a hiss of pain and reaches for something around her.

She tries to grab at the closest thing to her, which happens to be a broom, but it so happens to be that her wrists begin to burn when she barely brushes the handle. She growls in irritation; the bloody git put a detaining charm on her. She's tied in magical ropes that respond with pain when she tries to overcome it.

A nasty smile spreads across Snape's face.

Hermione realizes, by the smug glint in Snape's eyes, that the sallow-faced bat is proud of what he's managed to do. His little scheme screams of Slytherin antics; he's managed to be sneaky, sly, _and_ smart about kidnapping Hermione. He's taken her into an abandoned closet without raising any suspicion, hexed her so she can't attack him..and then what?

What was his motive behind bringing her here in the first place?

She glares defiantly up at Snape. "You're greasier than you look, _Snape_. Now would you care to enlighten me on the reason _why_ you tied me up and brought me to a supply closet?" Hermione snarks, a cold smile crossing her face. "Trying to fulfill a fantasy that never would have come true without tying up a girl by force?"

Snape snarls, the insult obviously hitting close to home. "You should be glad I didn't shove your wand down your throat, you stupid witch. Well, to do so would only trouble me from rendering the truth from you."

Hermione pales. She had revealed too much information during her little outburst at Snape.

Had he been smart enough to uncover the truth about he? It seemed skeptical, but Snape was known for being sharp-minded and suspicious of everything.

She was hoping he wasn't smart enough to compromise her position. Of course, however, Snape had musings of his own that she could delve into. Perhaps that would lessen any other outrageous ideas that could pop up in his head, such as her identity being totally false and the thought of her being from the future.

"If you're still chasing that moronic idea that I'm pranking you for a... _snog_ ," Hermione says sardonically, "you're dumber than you look."

His eyes glint. "I don't trust a single word that comes out of your filthy mouth. You Gryffindors think _lying_ your way out of every single thing gets you somewhere." He retrieves a small flask from his robes, and Hermione's eyes widen.

He couldn't possibly...?

"Veritaserum," he says with glee, "that will force you to reveal the truth about _everything_."

"You're absolutely insane!" Hermione hisses loudly, words dripping in disbelief and disdain. "Who the hell gives you the right to...right to _drug_ a student? You Slytherins are out of your _minds_! You slimy little-"

"Don't make me shove that broomstick down your throat when I'm done with you, Mudblood," Snape says coldly, before unstoppering the little bottle. He approaches her and Hermione's mind whirls. She can't let herself take the potion, but if she fights back in any way, Snape will force it down her throat and make sure she swallows every drop of it.

So _what_ can she do?

Hermione's hands shake and she pulls her knees toward her chest. He grabs her jaw roughly, and she winces. She wants to push him away and beat him with a broomstick. The smell of him implodes her senses, and she desperately tries to ignore it. She blinks, trying to make her eyes teary.

She forces herself not to fight; it will be the best bet to not drinking the potion. Snape's black eyes are malicious and ruthless; he will take any measure to save himself from humiliation. Hermione almost snorts in pity as she forces the corners of her lips down.

The small beaker touches her lips and the clear liquid fills her mouth. Hermione breaks into loud whimpers and quickly tucks her head in between her knees.

She hopes Snape will believe that she is sobbing as she empties her mouth of the clear liquid. It spills onto her skirt and she keeps up her antics, letting out bone-chilling sobs. Hermione digs her nails into her thighs until her eyes begin to water.

"Oh no," she moans pathetically, "Oh no, oh no, oh no!"

Hermione sneaks a surreptitious glance at Snape, whose eyes are suddenly bewildered and taken aback. He backs away from her warily, as if a sobbing girl is enough to terrify Voldemort himself. She takes vicious pleasure in this.

"P-please don't," Hermione mewls, her hands shaking. "I-I can't answer anything, please don't ask me any questions! If you do-" She raises her head to stare tearfully at Snape. He quickly composes her expression and sneers at her in disgust, quickly regaining his equanimity.

Hermione even clutches the front of Snape's robes in her frantic acting. "Please!" she shrieks loudly, squeezing her eyes shut so the rest of her tears pour down her face. She winces slightly; her shriek didn't sound half as convincing.

" _Will you shut up_!" Snape bellows, shoving her away from him. He's shocked and furious; he doesn't know how to handle the situation and the bloody Gryffindor is sobbing her arse off, when he needs important answers. He huffs; red-faced.

Hermione forces out a little squeak and tries to resist the smirk that wants to slide on her face.

"You're pathetic," Snape glowers, eyes flashing with rage. "And you better quit your crying unless you want me to hex you so that your mouth will _freeze off_." Hermione's eyes widen in mock fear and she exaggerates a swallow. She sneakily slides one hand under the back of her robe to grab her wand.

"Now tell me," Snape says, daring her to cry again with a twisted snarl, "how do you know about my interest in Dark Arts? Did Potter tell you? Does he wish to reveal my secrets so he can get me expelled?" He speaks in fervor, and Hermione can't help but think what a pathetic loser he was.

Hermione gasps loudly in fake vigor. "I-I-I..." A delicious thought plays in her head. If it's a Slytherin game that Snape wants to play, Hermione will eagerly join.

After all...double-crossing _is_ a Slytherin trait. She wickedly watches Snape's eyes fill with hunger as she parts her lips, and he leans in closers.

"It's because I'm in love with you!" she blurts out, and quickly covers her mouth with her hands. Little does Snape know that she's desperately trying to conceal her giggles. "I-I've always been in love with you and I found out everything about you..to get closer to you!"

A laugh slips out of Hermione's mouth as she watches the emotions play across Snape's face. Confusion, disgust, surprise, horror; each emotion contorting his face unpleasantly. She disguises another laugh as an embarrassed cry.

"W-What?" Snape sputters, staring at the stifled witch. He stares at her in horrified suspicion, as if Hermione is going to grab him for a long snog when her hands are free. Snape backs away from her and tries to muster apathy; he tries to reign in all his feelings again but it suddenly becomes such a struggle.

"I-I've wanted to snog you for ages!" Hermione lies, face reddening at the rather vulgar words that leaves her mouth, but Snape perceives it as embarrassment.

She lowers her voice into a seductive cadence, and leans into Snape as close as she can get. Her face sears because of the hex but she savors Snape's frozen and horrified face.

"And a snog isn't the only thing I can give you..." Hermione says in a sultry voice, her voice breathy and a pitch lower. She raises an eyebrow in what she hopes is a suggestive manner, but she is sent flying against the wall a second time.

The bloody git shoved her...again!

Hermione lets out a growl of pain, and drops her facade. "You're just _so_ appealing, you know..." Her voice raises to her normal octave and she rags at him. "You're so _dreamy_ and _kind_ and _gentle_ and _totally_ not an arse who kidnaps girls in desperation and makes a habit in _manhandling_ them!" Sarcasm and hate drips from her voice.

She hadn't meant to compromise her situation, really. But any notion of self-satisfaction regarding Snape's memorable face expressions had dropped when he had slammed her against the wall. Plus, the bloody git had cursed her, almost drugged her, shoved her, and _worst of all_ , had called her stupid.

" _What_?" he repeats again, this time more forcefully. Hermione snorts in disbelief. The emotion in his eyes are almost pouring out of his face. "You, in love with- you want to- _what_?"

Hermione tightens her grip on her wand and watches the realization dawn onto Snape. She could see it going through his head: he had hexed her, kidnapped her, and tried to get the truth out of her...except he had failed. He had even been humiliated. Big time.

Before she knows it, Snape is hurling a hex at her and she pulls out her wand and yells, " _Protego!",_ just in time as Snape's hex bounces off.

His face is redder than before and veins are bulging out from his forehead. "You _stupid_ Mudblood!"

Hermione sneers at the derogative term and keeps her wand pointed. Her inner temptress and actress had retreated back into, gone as quickly as they had stayed. "Listen you slimy bastard. I'm the one who managed to outcross you, and I'm the one who was smart enough to protect myself!" she says shrilly. "So you better move out of the way or else I'm reporting this to Dumbledore."

"No way in hell am I going to let a Gryffindor mudblood boss me around!" Snape yells, pointing his wand at her just the same. He's shaking with rage. "You will _not_ say a word to the old geezer or the Mar-"

"You're pathetic, really," she says scathingly, eyes throwing daggers at Severus. She stands taller and walks closer to him, knuckles white from gripping her wand too tight. "Kidnapping a student and trying to... _poison_ them so you can avoid being humiliated by the Marauders...You don't matter to them as much as you think, you bloody git. They don't give a single Hippogriff shit about you. So you better get your head out of your arse before you _really_..." she pauses, mustering as much nerve she can, "Screw. Your. Life. Up."

And he's silent, face blank with a overdose of rage. His lips are pressed together in a thin line, and the redness in his face dissipates, leaving his face a sickly white color.

For a second, Hermione is scared of the fifteen year old. She notes, though it does her no help, that Snape has been struggling with anger issues since the blooming age of 15. Perhaps Dumbledore had expected her to fix not only Snape's dark habits, but also some of his social skills and his ability to deal with emotions.

Before Snape can react or cause her any more harm (plus, she's not willing to test Snape's threat on freezing her lips off), Hermione thinks fast and says, " _Petrificus Totalus_!" He falls hard onto his back with a scream frozen on his lips and she can't smugly acknowledge the karma in the situation.

She still hasn't forgotten when he had knocked her to the ground and straddled her.

The anger and rage that once had filled her is gone. Seeing Snape, helpless and powerful, gives her a sense of satisfaction that she's _finally_ won. Not only has she outed him, but she's outsmarted him and had been quicker than him. And on top of all this, he's the Slytherin in the situation.

She's about to get up when her legs begin to sear again.

" _Finite_ ," she huffs, pointing her wand at herself and canceling the detaining hex. Hermione gets up and steps over Snape, before snarkily saying her last words. "I'm free Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays after class. Make sure not to be late. And trust me, I won't be fainting anytime soon so there's no need to prepare Veritaserum, _or_ an abandoned closet."

Hermione can feel the rage emanating from Snape and she quickly walks out of the supply closet.

* * *

With classes being finished for the day and the library not being an option (and it won't be, for quite a while), Hermione decides to go to the Gryffindor Commonroom. All she wants to do is sit on one of the big squashy chairs and relax; it's been a long day.

But it seems as if the universe is trying to test her patience today.

"Erm...the thing is," Hermione says, wringing her hands, "Professor Dumbledore forgot to mention the password when I was getting oriented. So can't you just let me off the hook this time and I promise I will be out of your-"

"Hmph!" the Fat Lady chastises, shaking her head, "This is _not_ my problem. And you can't expect me to open the door for a student I've never seen before in my life, can you?"

"I swear! I'm the transfer student that Dumbledore..." she trails off, knowing that it's hopeless. Hermione leans against the wall and sits pathetically, mumbling darkly under her breath. All she wants is to doze off, maybe read a book by the fire. It's the least she can ask for after being pummeled and hexed. Maybe she'll have to find relief, not from the cushy chairs she longed for in the Commonroom, but from the cold wall.

She hears voice and steps turning from the corner. She gets up hopefully.

"Honestly Prongs, I thought McGonagall was going to keep me cleaning the tables forever!" a deep, annoyed voice says, "You have no idea how sore my arm is right now."

"Didn't think to use a charm?" another lively voice replies teasingly, "Maybe your brains are overworked from styling your hair in the morning."

"Excuse me?" a voice says hotly, and Hermione hears a dull thud and a yelp. "The bloody witch locked my wand so I couldn't do magic the entire detention! I swear, when I tried to open the box, it nearly bit my fingers off."

Hermione peers at the two boys turning the corner and lets out a gasp of recognition.

A direct replica of Harry casually runs his hand through his hair and smirks at the boy next to him. And the boy next to him, who the hell was he? She stares harder and finally realizes...Sirius?

 _No way_ , Hermione marvels, staring at who appears to be Sirius.

Sirius looks shockingly different; there's only a ghost of his face in the wickedly handsome boy, but that's about it. There is no waxen, gaunt face, no haunted look in his eyes. Only a rather good-looking boy with dark hair looking casually windswept, bright eyes, and a dashing smile. He's long-legged and graceful, haughtily strolling around as if he owns the place.

James, who stands next to him, is not as handsome, but he swells with two times the charm. It's as if the quirky, half-raised smile is glued to his face and his eyes, a brilliant hazel, are bright and attentive. His nose is only slightly longer than Harry's, but the similarities are undeniable

She nearly faints.

She ducks her reddening face and desperately tries to gather control over her brain. She's so flustered, and she's not sure why. She _knows_ Sirius, and in a way knows James. She's eaten with Sirius, talked with him, spent time with him; this is merely a younger, merrier figure of him, _not_ a ghost. And James too; oh, she's seen him in pictures but she can't wrap her head around the fact that this is Harry's dad.

She locks eyes with James, who raises an eyebrow and smirks mischievously at her. "Oye. Padfoot. Look who I found."

Sirius stares at her and his face breaks into an identical smile as James', and the look on their faces is so familiar to the looks Fred and George would have sometimes. "Hmm, is that the new transfer student we were told about? I've seen all kinds of girls...but I didn't quite expect her to look as if she's been pummeled by Harpies!"

Hermione reddens in embarrassment, suddenly hating herself for not bothering to fix her appearance.

James notices Hermione's bright red face and smacks Sirius in the head with his wand. "Where are your manners, you esteemed Black!"

Sirius yowls, wrapping his hands around his head. "Holy hippogriffs, I'm kidding! You know I'm just messing with the gi- JAMES! BLOODY QUIT!"

The two were beginning to wrestle each other playfully, grabbing each other's robes and scuffling around. "Um..." she says, not even bothering to be offended by Sirius's little joke. She quickly got the feeling that they were two dolts who messed around way too much and received detention too frequently. "Um..."

Hermione's face heats up as James begins to pull Sirius's hair, in which Sirius lets out a surprisingly girly shriek and begins to try and stick James's wand up his nose.

Hermione doesn't notice the painting opening and slamming shut as someone climbs out. She's too immersed by the situation and isn't entirely sure how to react: It's damn strange to see Sirius, before his youth was stolen, and Harry's dead father, wrestling _right_ in front of her.

What a bloody day!

She glances to the side at the boy who's appeared, and her eyes widen again/

Remus Lupin?

Remus is the only one who looks as close to what she's seen in her time. His robes are in patches and he still holds himself as if he is melting, but they are only minor similarities. Remus's face is young and attentive, so different from the haggard and worn out Remus she is so used to seeing. There are no worry lines pressed at his mouth, and his hair is full and thick. His light brown hair is shaggily cut, sweeping across his forehead. Her mouth drops open once more.

He stares back at her before blushing. "You two are bloody insane!" Remus says loudly, his tone barely grazing a growl. "What in Merlin's name are you guys doing?" He glances warily at Hermione before he gets into the scuffle and pulls them apart.

Sirius and James look cheery as they are separated from each other, as if it's just a regular day.

"Moony," James says smoothly, offering a hand to the irritated werewolf. "Always a pleasure when you grace us with your presence. Here to dock points from us, my dear Prefect?" He pretends to moon over the badge that faintly glints on Remus's chest appreciatively.

"No," Remus says curtly, "Just to tell you two to shut the hell up! There _are_ some people trying to study in the Commonroom. The people inside thought some unlucky lass was being attacked by Slytherins and told me to check it out...but I know better, of course, living five years with the bloody git." He cracks a smirk and James howls, bending over in laughter.

Sirius fumes in response. "My screams are _not_ feminine! And Prongs, looked what you did to my hair! All of my gel is practically gone! You terrible, terrible wizard... Do you have any idea how long this work of art takes?" He grabs his luscious locks and snarls at James.

"An hour and thirty minutes," Remus says dryly, and the look on Remus's face is unfathomable. "Trust us, Padfoot, we know. None of us get to step a toe in the bathroom because of you."

Sirius smirks, as if he is rather proud of tormenting them. "I'm doing you two a favor, rather. After all, you and Prongs don't need to be in the bathroom to groom your looks...they're just too hopeless to even _try_ and fix. Giving false hope is something that I would _never_ do to you blokes. After all, what are mates for?"

"Really? False hope?" James snickers, "Because you couldn't have possibly charmed half the girls in the Commonroom, making them believe you guys were going to get married and ride off into the sunset."

" _And_ have ickle children with the Black household looks and fortune," Remus adds, and the smug look on Sirius's face slides off.

"You two are really at it today, huh?" Sirius threatens playfully, before grabbing both boys into a headlock. "Cheeky prats." He swings them around and they all begin to laugh, leaving Hermione to stand there awkwardly with a wistful smile on her face.

Remus manages to break out of the headlock first, before glancing at Hermione. Sirius and James also turn to stare at what Remus is looking at, and she finds herself under the scrutiny of the Marauder's eyes. She pinks for what seems like the thousandth time and curses herself _again_ for not even bothering to do any damage control about her appearance.

"So, transfer," James says easily, running his fingers through his already messy hair, "Did you get sorted yet?"

"Manage to get into the bloody best house of all time?" Sirius interjects, looking proudly at the entrance of the Gryffindor common-room.

Hermione stares at them amusedly, before flatly saying, "Actually, I was sorted into Slytherin. Would you direct me to the common-rooms?"

Their looks quickly morph in horror and James and Sirius both gasp, horrified, before subtly distancing themselves from her.

"Slytherin?" Sirius gasps dejectedly, "And to think, a bird with a face like your's, would be sorted into the damned Satan house. We all know Gryffindor makes the girls best after all..." Hermione blushes. "Well, _with_ a shower and a nice blowout, that is." The smile slides off her face.

"Yea, seriously!" James exclaims, crossing his arms. "If you just-"

"I'm just kidding," she says quickly, interrupting James, who looked as if he were to offer his two cents. "I was sorted into Gryffindor this morning."

The boys let out a collective breath of relief.

"Man, you really had us there, er," Remus says, looking at her expectantly, "Your name is...?"

"Hermione Granger," she replies, and Remus offers a hand in which she takes.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," he says earnestly, and she smiles genuinely in response. "I'm Remus Lupin."

"Nice to meet you, Remus," she replies, and he squeezes her fingers before letting go of her hand.

"James Potter," James says gallantly, giving her another cheeky grin. "Way to make an impression, am I right?" He elbows Sirius playfully in the ribs, who shoves James away from him. "She definitely won't forget about us after our little show."

Hermione snorts. "That's for sure."

"I'm sure she's going to remember me, impression or not," Sirius says blatantly. "I mean... look at me. I'm Sirius Black." He cocks his eyebrow and gives her a roguish grin, and she lets out a little laugh.

"You know, I like you, Hermione Granger," James says, waggling his finger at her. "You really know how to pull jokes...Too bad you're not a bloke...you'd make a decent prankster."

Hermione raises an eyebrow at this, instantly switching into her pro-witch stance. "Are you possibly implying that...?"

"Oh, no," James replies quickly, shaking his head, "I was proved wrong by Lily...she pulled the best prank on me in fourth year...my hair was pink for months..."

"Lily is a girl James is obsessed with," Sirius supplies, "He's in love with her but she says she'd rather have the giant squid than him." Hermione lets out a giggle and James glares at Sirius, obviously shaken out of his reminiscent stupor. "So Granger, where did you come from?"

"Um," she says, smoothing her hair back. Her fingers the hem of her skirt and realizes that the Veritaserum is still on her skirt. She winces slightly. "I'm a transfer student from a magic school in the States. My family moved from the States to London and Hogwarts was the only local magic school so..."

"States?" Sirius mutters, rubbing his chin. James shrugs, perplexed. "I'm pretty sure it's an isle right off the coast of Cornwall. Quite far from here, eh?"

She flusters. "Um, no-"

"Really, Padfoot? Are you _slow_? I've heard that it's a suburban area near the mountains. Except it's infested with goblins, nasty lot," James says loudly, shaking his head. Sirius lets out a snort and Hermione wants to slam her head into a wall.

"Definitely explains her appearance," Sirius replies and James bursts into snickers. Hermione's face flushes in embarrassment and she bites her lip, feeling extremely self-conscious. "But of course, from the looks of those hot American lasses," he drawls thoughtfully, scrutinizing her face, "if you get her in some decent clothes and let her take a shower...definitely from the States."

Hermione's not sure if she should take that as a compliment, but from the likes of the blonde, sun-kissed girls she's seen from the States, she'll take it.

 _Still quite the charmer,_ Hermione notes, and the two wizards continue their conversation regarding where the States are before Remus intervenes (thankfully).

"No, you dolts!" Remus says exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. "The United States? The Muggle country?" Sirius and James stare blankly. "Oh you two," Remus groans, "I thought you blokes took Muggle Studies last year!"

"Bloody Moony! You know that I dropped the class because-"

"He's right," Hermione interjects, because from the expression on Sirius's face, it seems as if another stupid argument start. "I _am_ from the United States."

"Muggleborn, I'm guessing?" James asks, cocking his head.

"That obvious?" Hermione says, shaking her head. "Um, anyways...it was nice to meet you lot, but Professor Dumbledore forgot to tell me the password for the dormitory...The Pink Lady-" she throws a glare at the fat lady, who glares at her, "won't let me in either, so could you _please_ tell me the password?"

"The password is I _ce Mice_ ," Remus informs, and the Pink Lady sends one more suspicious glance at Hermione before swinging the door open. Sirius scowls and crosses his arms, pouting like a child.

"I couldn't get a box of those last time at Hogsmeade," Sirius grumbles, "McKinnon beat me to it. She's been laughing in my face ever since. And they won't be in stock still next month!" Hermione lets out a little giggle and Sirius glances at her, almost curiously.

"Honeydukes is a candy shop in Hogsmeade, a local town nearby," Remus informs, and Hermione acts as if she's intrigued by the information. She's glad Remus has decided to omit the historical facts and dates, which she would have blurted robotically if put into Remus's position. "They just came out with this new treat called "Ice Mice" and it's been selling out since."

Hermione lifts an eyebrow; she thought Ice Mice had always been a staple in Honeydukes. She hadn't expected it to be fairly new in this time.

"It makes your teeth chatter and squeak and a bunch of other cool sounds," Sirius moans longingly, "Damn McKinnon."

"Oh...next time, then," Hermione says, her tongue feeling like lead. Her vision swims and she blinks, hard, suddenly overcome by a dizzy spell.

Her exhaust, which she had been stubbornly ignoring, suddenly pulls her under.

Her body is overworked and tense and sore from being so roughly handled. Her muscles ache, her eyes sting, and her legs feel like cooked noodles. Her head feels like a drum, being hit over and over again. She can't wait to curl up in her bed and sleep...

"Well...shall we?" Remus says, beckoning them into the painting. She mentally thanks the gods for giving Remus his ability to notice her sleepy eyes and maneuver out of awkward situations. She offers him a sleepy, thankful smile and stumbles into the portrait.

"Remus is a prefect," James remarks in a thick, rather emotional voice. She can tell it's another facade he's putting on, and she snorts when he pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. "Ickle Remus, all grown up and responsible! Hence the high and mighty act." He winks at her and she shakes her head in tired amusement.

Remus scowls at James.

"So Granger," Sirius says thoughtfully, running his fingers through his black silky hair. "What welcoming party attacked you on your first day in Hogwarts and turned an esteemed States girl into... _this_?" He notes the expression on her face. "But I'm sure you'll be hot States girl material once you take a shower," he assures quickly, trying to spare her feelings.

She rolls her eyes and Hermione shakes her head as she recalls the earlier moments. "It was honestly the worst welcome I've ever received," Hermione says groggily, ignoring the warning lights flashing in front of her eyes. She barely feels the warm hand supporting the small of her back as she sways on her feet.

"Mhm?"

"How so?"

"Well...it involved an overgrown bat and an empty closet," Hermione mumbles incoherently, having enough nerve to cock an eyebrow before being lulled into the warmth of the Commonroom and yet again, slumping into the unassuming arms of Sirius Black.


	3. Chapter 3

Im so so sorry for the latest update *ducks head*

i got a bout of writer's block but now that's it's break, ill try my best to update regularly!'

* * *

 _CHAPTER THREE_

 _GIRLS' COMMONROOM, 1975_

* * *

The bed is incredibly soft.

That is the first legible thought that drifts into Hermione's brain as she slowly surfaces from sleep. Her eyes feel heavy and droopy as she peers hazily from her shelter of warm blankets and fluffy pillows. It feels so good, so safe and cozy, she thinks, falling into a muddled stupor-

"-bloody get the girl out of my bed!"

Hermione's eyes snap back open irritably.

"C'mon Marlene, practically _everyone_ has slept in _your_ bed!"

"BLACK! You come back here and call me a tart to my face if you da-"

"Let's put the wand down, McKinnon, you know-"

"Oh pipe it, Potter, you know very well that-"

"Oh my bloody hell," Hermione moans quietly, pressing her palms to her face.

Loud footsteps thunder loudly from up the stairs and Hermione flinches at the sudden loud slam of the door.

The room is silent.

"What is going _on_ in here?" Hermione blinks at the sound of the familiar voice.

Professor McGonagall?

Hermione almost bursts into tears, hearing the sound of Professor McGonagall's voice. Knowing that a remnant of her past (err, well, future) still remains her life leaves a warm sense of familiarity inside of her. It feels like it's been ages since she's been stuck escaping a sallow-faced bat and desperately trying to have a normal conversation with the Marauders.

She's temped to open the thick, red velvet curtains and give the old witch a bone-crushing hug.

"Minny! What a pleasure for you to pay a visit!" Sirius says in a falsely bright tone, and Hermione rolls her eyes. "We were just, uh, discussing who McKinnon shares her bed wi-"

There's a loud shriek of outrage followed by a loud bark from Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Black, that is five points from Gryffindor...All of you, put your wands down _immediatel_ y! You too, McKinnon!"

Hermione can almost envision the scene and her fingers itch to open the curtains; she tries to identify McKinnon. She vaguely remembers Dumbledore mentioning a McKinnon in the first Order of the Phoenix, but everything else is fuzzy.

"Now...I've heard from Remus Lupin that there is a new transfer student sleeping in the girl's commonroom...And I come up to this chaos?" Professor McGonagall snaps, and Hermione can envision her beady eyes glaring at each student in heated irritation. "Where is the girl?"

"She's in there," McKinnon says sourly, clearly still upset about Sirius's comment.

The curtains snap open suddenly and bright light floods the bed. Hermione lets out a little squeak and flinches backwards, squinting.

Four faces peer at her, some grim, some annoyed, and some positively amused. A blonde girl, who must be Marlene, stares at Hermione with her jet blue eyes, scanning her up and down. Feeling subconscious and hysterical, Hermione pinks.

"Erm...I-I'm really not sure what to say...I-I'm so sorry I was in someone's bed and Professor McGo-"

"Enough of that, Ms. Granger," Professor McGonagall says coolly, peering at Hermione with a rather condescending look, "Professor Dumbledore has already informed me of everything. Come with me. You have separate corridors elsewhere."

"O-Oh, I um...y-yes!"

Hermione stumbles out of the bed as quickly as she can and accidentally trips on the hanging covers. She staggers before regaining and balance and she desperately tries to ignore the stares coming from Sirius and James and Marlene McKinnon.

Sirius grabs her arm as she stumbles past him.

"Sorry for waking you up," he says, smiling wolfishly. "You kind of passed out on us."

"I'm sorry," Hermione squeaks, face heating up again. "I really don't know-"

"It's fine," Sirius says lowly, interrupting her in mid sentence and placing his hands on her shoulders. He stares deeply into her eyes and she loses her breath. "Just remember that shower, alright?

Ducking her head in embarrassment, Hermione quickly walks out of the girl's commonroom without waiting for Professor McGonagall.

* * *

"All the Headmaster has told me is that you are a transfer student from the States and that you have been placed into my house," Professor McGonagall says standoffishly, pacing back and forth in Hermione's newly given personal quarters.

It's a rather nice room; there is a four poster bed in the middle of the room, stacked with velvet sheets and fluffy comforters. A bookshelf is fully decked in the corner with a squashy red chair, right in front of a mini fireplace. The floor is covered in thick, red and gold rugs with a private bathroom in the corner.

It's cozy.

Professor McGonagall's eyes bore into Hermione's, as if sensing her shift in focus, so Hermione quickly averts her eyes to the ground.

"I have no idea of what kind of girl you are, Granger, but I do know that we haven't had a transfer from another school since the last forty years and that a personal suite hasn't been given to _any_ student in the history of Hogwarts..."

She stares suspiciously at Hermione, as if Hermione is hiding something from her that Dumbledore has not shared (which is true). "I'm not sure how they educate and discipline the students in the States, but let me assure you that Hogwarts only expects the best behavior from their students. We do _not_ tolerate self-absorbed students with their heads stuck in the clouds."

Hermione sucks in a breath, feeling slightly hurt. She prided herself on never being presumed to be shallow or superficial, but she is already setting the wrong impressions for herself. "Yes ma'am," she says softly, peering at her shoes.

"Here are your class schedule and your books," Professor McGonagall waves her wand and shoves a paper and a stack of book into Hermione's arms. "You are expected to be at class, on time, every day. No magic in the hallways and curfew is at 10:00. If you are found _anywhere_ in the school past curfew, you will serve detention with me. Do you understand?"

Hermione forces herself to stare into the Professor's sharp eyes. "Yes, I do."

"Good," Professor McGonagall says shortly. "I will see you at dinner then." She swishes out of her suite and the loud click of her shoes echo through the halls.

Hermione lets out a breath of air she has been holding and slumps onto her bed, before remembering Sirius's sly comment and forcing herself into the bathroom.

Each step feelings like rocks are poking into her feet and she quickly flips the light switch on for the bathroom.

White, fluorescent lights begin to glow and she admires the clean bathroom. The tiles are white and smooth, and there is a bathtub, just like the one in the Prefect's Bathroom, except only smaller. She sees that the counter is already decked with her necessary toiletries; body butter, a hair brush, even a big bottle of Sleaksy's. She smiles tightly.

She assumes her suite once belonged to a Prefect or the Headboy/Headgirl. It is extremely generous, given her place as a student. Dumbledore must have felt some pity towards her and supplied her with a nice room as if to make up for the hardships she will have to endure.

Given the circumstances, Hermione is dully pleased.

Hermione stares at herself in the mirror and lets out a small gasp.

She is horrified at what stares back at her, mouth gaping.

Her hair sticks up in all directions, frizzy and tangled and incredibly... _big_. In fact, big isn't even a good enough word to describe the mess of her hair; it's snarled and poofy and looks as if a family of rats have been nesting in it. No wonder Sirius had been eyeing her with such disscontempt and even slight disgust; he was renown for his hair care.

Her face is pinched and pale and her tired eyes are accompanied by dark circles.

She looks like a bloody mess.

Hermione closes her eyes and counts to ten, trying to calm the uneasiness inside of her. A tornado of emotions rampage her emotional stability, a front she has been putting on the whole day. She is momentarily overwhelmed by a sudden flood of emotions; sadness, anger, hopelessness, desperation, anxiety, and restlessness swallow her whole. Her nails dig into her palms unconsciously.

She opens her eyes and stares hopelessly at herself before letting out a breath of air and beginning to undress.

After double-checking that she's locked the bathroom door, she hops into the shower.

With a quick twist of a knob, a steady stream of hot water pounds over her and she stands there, soaking up the heat and the needed relief to her joints. The water, diluted with lavender and witch hazel, eases her aching body. She glances at herself; her arms, legs, and sides, and sees blotchy and pale bruises and slight cuts. Bruises form up her waist to her back and the sides of her hips.

She grits her teeth.

Feeling miserable, she begins to shampoo her hair mindlessly, drifting into her thoughts.

She's not exactly sure how she's supposed to save Snape from his obsession with the Dark Arts and all things evil. From his behavior towards her, he's even more nastier and darker than she had expected him to be. Fear begins to thrum at her core; how is she supposed to save the entire Wizarding World when she's not even one step close to it?

Who knows when Voldemort will gain full power in the present world? How much time does she exactly have?

And from the looks of it, Hermione is has no chance of returning to the life she's lived and is probably never going to see anyone familiar to her. Harry, Ron, Ginny, Crookshanks, her parents, the Weasley's...she's even beginning to miss Snape as her nasty professor.

She's an alien in this time period.

She will never fit in or function in this society.

Dread fills the pit of her stomach. What is she going to do after saving Snape, even if she manages to do so? After she graduates? After she becomes an adult?

She can't _possibly_ live in this time period for the rest of her life...can she?

A dull thud resonates in the shower as she slides to her knees.

The spike of pain on her legs barely register; horror and shock drops to the bottom of her stomach.

Hot, heavy tears begin to puddle in her eyes and begin to spill over and down her cheeks. She's entirely numb but can't help the tears from falling. The pain is spilling all over her skull and she clenches her eyes shut in desperation.

For the first time in a long time, she is praying.

* * *

Dinner is slow and uneventful.

Hermione sits at the end of the table, next to the first years who are jabbering about their classes and shoveling in loads of mashed potatoes into their faces. She isn't ready to face the Marauders or anyone significant to her past; it hurts and it sucks to be hanging out with Harry's dead parents and everyone else, so untouched by Voldemort and very much alive.

She's decided to keep her head down during the entire mission; she's going to save Snape and quietly go through her classes with as little disturbance she can get.

Hermione picks at her Shepherd's Pie, mournfully nostalgic but grateful that it tastes slightly different from what she is used to having.

She reaches to twiddle with her hair - a habit she's developed for when she is nervous - but remembers that she's stuffed it into a big, messy knot at the top of her head. It feels odd to put her hair but she's firm in her resolve for change.

With a touch of concealer and mascara, and a swig of Yomuju's Rejuvenating Potion, she looks more than half alive, thankfully.

After suffering through one more bite of the pie, she puts her fork down and gets up to hide in her quarters, when an oddly familiar redhead takes a sit in front of her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she says apologetically. "Were you just getting up?"

Hermione gawks in awe; the witch in front of her with the bright red hair and the bottle-green eyes smiles at her softly, meaning she can be no other than the-

"I'm Lily Evans, charmed," Lily says, offering a hand.

Hermione stammers and shakily offers a hand in response, unable to say a word. "I-I-I'm Hermione Granger."

"Oh, I've heard," Lily says cheerfully, getting up with Hermione. She grabs a muffin from the basket and begins to nibble on it. "You're all talk for the Gryffindors right now. Getting carried unconscious by Sirius Black seems to be quite a big deal...he's a bloody prat, anyways. Professor McGonagall's already told us that we're expecting a new transfer student from...where was it, the States, am I right?"

Hermione swallows a gulp and nods, unsure of what to say.

Lily peers intently at Hermione, her gaze too discerning and focused for her liking. "Are you alright? You don't look very..."

Hermione unintentionally brings the palm of her hand against her red and swollen eyes and mentally curses herself for forgetting to de-puff her eyes. "I'm alright, thank you."

They both know it's a blatant lie and Lily hesitantly says, "Well...it is only your first day at Hogwarts. I can't imagine how difficult it must be to transfer to a totally different school in an even more different school. I'm sure...I'm sure you will adjust well."

Lily cocks an unsure, half-smile and Hermione stiffens at the familiarity of the smile. How many times has she seen Harry wearing the same smile with the identical crease at the side of his mouth?

Gritting her teeth, she nods almost imperceptibly and stares down at her fingers. "Yes, I hope so."

An awkward silence fills the gaps of their discontinued conversation.

"Well...um," Lily says softly, looking apologetically at Hermione with her bright green eyes. Her stomach clenches. "I hope I'll see you around in class...?"

"Sure," Hermione responds, giving the girl one last smile.

As Lily turns to go, James Potter, who just so happens to be walking in Lily's general direction, swoops in and gives a soft smirk to the two girls.

"Oye. Evans," Potter drawls, beckoning the redhead back. "You met Hermione Granger?"

Irritation instantly replaces the shy, unsure smile on her face and her sweet demeanor deadpans into exasperation. She stares squarely at his face and responds stiffly. "I have, Potter. In fact, I was on my way back from talking to her. Have _you_ introduced yourself to her yet?"

The wicked grin splits across his face. "In fact...I have. Did she tell you that we were properly acquainted in the broom closet upstairs?"

Hermione's mouth drops into a little 'O' and Lily blinks unsurely, before planting her hands on her hips. Her gaze flickers to Hermione doubtfully. "Well, whatever the hell you two did, I certainly don't give a crap about it and it's not any of my business."

"We did _nothing_ of the sort!" Hermione says shrilly, nailing a black look at James.

Lily stares at James with a hard gaze, and says very snidely, "Get a bloody life, Potter."

James gawks at her as she plants her fists on her hips and watches her go. "Bloody hell, that witch."

"Really James," Hermione says annoyedly. "If you like her, go for her...but leave me out of this. Girls don't like guys who are bloody jokes, _especially_ Lily." She rolls her eyes at the bewildered wizard who blinks in confusion.

"W-wait, who said anything about me liking her?" James denies profusely. He drops his voice. "But did Evans say anything about me?"

"You do clean up nicely, Granger."

Hermione whirls around at the voice behind her and comes face to face with Sirius Black, who looks well-maintained and groomed as always. "Oh Sirius," she says lightly, pushing him into a respectable distance from her, "As long as it will get you to stop ragging on about my experience."

"A solid nine will do," Sirius sniffs jokingly, grinning down at her.

She rolls her eyes. "Well...if you'll excuse me."

"Woah there, mystery girl," Sirius says quickly, grabbing her arm. "We're not quite done with you."

"Mystery girl? Really? That's a first," Hermione remarks dryly.

"Granger, you kind of passed out on us," James says distractedly, running his fingers through his hair as he stares, mesmerized, at a red-haired witch. Hermione duly notices that Lily purposely makes a point of ignoring his moony glances. "Care to explain why?"

"Um...I was having a long day," Hermione says simply. "I really needed that nap."

"You're lucky I was there to catch you," Sirius snorts. "Lucky enough for you, girls happen to fall into my arms all the time."

"I don't think that's something to brag about, Black," Hermione responds swiftly.

He winks at her. "It's alright. Don't worry about it."

"Wasn't going to," she mutters and Sirius suddenly drops his gaze and looks to the side, attention diverted. Hermione looks in masked interest and sees a mocha skinned girl with jet black hair waiting pointedly for Sirius.

"See you later, folks," Sirius says, before eagerly rushing over to his new conquest.

"There you have him," James snickers, finally out of his stupor. "Hogwarts' biggest player, Sirius Black."

"Who would have known?" Hermione laughs as well, shaking her head. To have thought that the gaunt-faced, haggard, Sirius Black from her time could charm a witch.


	4. Chapter 4

my inner muse has awoken at one AM so i finally finished this chapter :)

i update my story but weirdly, the new chapter only appears on the preview! i don't get it smh

please enjoy & review!

* * *

 _CHAPTER FOUR_

 _HERMIONE'S QUARTERS, 1975_

* * *

After reading two books, drinking one cup of hot chocolate, and sleeping for what seemed to be a lifetime, Hermione Granger is ready to deal with another day.

She's successfully managed to wake up on time, make her bed, and get prepared for the day.

A sense of routine redeems her, somehow.

Taking a deep breath in, she leaves her room and makes her way down to breakfast. Her insides jitter uneasily as she glances at the passing students, plugging in a reminder that this is not her timeline, this is not her school, these are not her peers. The passing students' gazes linger on her longer than it should, much to her wariness.

The Dining Hall is loud and bright, with yellow sunlight beaming from the ceiling. She tries to assure herself that despite everything else, it's still the same as always. Taking in a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, she surveys the Gryffindor table for a place to sit. She pretends that she doesn't notice the eyes that flicker at her and the low whispering.

She's been through this before.

She finds a seat next to a third-year Gryffindor with long black hair and her nose stuck in a textbook. Hermione smiles almost fondly, before putting pancakes on her plate and propping her own book up, ignoring the stares from the people around her. She begins to read her a book regarding the theories of time travel, hoping that the breakfast goes quietly and she goes unnoticed.

 _The theory of time travel is one that is_ -

"Good morning, Hermione," a voice says pleasantly, and Hermione resists the urge to huff in annoyance. She looks up and sees Lily, who grins at her brightly. Her heart nearly stops when she sees the red-headed girl; she'll never get used to seeing her best friend's dead mother. The witch looks stunning in the bright light, with her smiling eyes and cascading red hair. Her eyes are impossibly alike to Harry's. "Mind if I sit here?"

"Sure," Hermione replies, setting her book down and helping herself with a bowl of soup.

"What are you reading?" Lily asks politely, looking at the title of Hermione's book.

"Oh, it's nothing," Hermione says quickly, "Just doing some light reading." She picks up her book to set it in her bag but fails, dropping the book with a loud 'thud.' She blushes and Lily lets out a laugh, shaking her head.

"Light reading, I suppose?" she teases and a small smile blooms on her face. "Well...I know you're new here and it might be difficult to adjust. So I wanted to introduce you to my roommates, if that's okay..."

Hermione opens her mouth to decline, but the red-haired witch is already calling out to her friends, who are trying to act as if they haven't been peering over at her. Three witches head over from the end of the table, looking bashful.

"This is Marlene McKinnon," Lily says, gesturing to the blond girl who raises an eyebrow pointedly. Hermione recognizes her immediately and has the decency to look embarrassed for stealing her bed. "And this is Mary MacDonald." A dark-haired girl with a slender neck and sharp eyes smiles at her. "And Alice Prewett." A heart-faced girl with curly blonde hair waves at her brightly.

The names stir something up in her and she can't help but remember flashes of information. Marlene McKinnon and her family were supposed to be murdered entirely. Alice was supposed to be tortured to insanity. And Mary MacDonald was supposed to be killed in the Order of the Phoenix action.

She forces a smile on her face, ignoring a wave of nausea. "Nice to meet you guys. I'm Hermione Granger."

"We know," Alice giggles, taking a seat next to Lily. "Heard that Sirius Black carried you when you passed out. _And_ you have your own quarters! But is it true about snogging James Potter?"

Hermione turns bright red. "I'd rather not participate and feed into these rumors," she says stiffly, looking down at her soup.

"Alice," Lily reprimands, giving her friend a look.

"Sorry," she giggles, "But the things people are saying...it's really outrageous."

Hermione raises an eyebrow. "Oh really."

Alice opens her mouth but Mary cuts in tactfully. "So I heard you're from the States. What's it like down there?"

She squirms in her seat as she tries to think off the top of her head. "Um...it's practically the same. You know, with-"

"Lily! Good morning, love!" a voice booms, and a arm grabs her, practically sweeping Lily out of her chair.

The three girls snicker at James Potter, who looks delighted to see Lily. His hazel eyes brighten at the sight of her and his smile splits his face. Unfortunately, the same can't be said about Lily. He wraps his arm around the redhead's shoulders, wheedling next to her.

"Oh, can it, Potter," Lily says in exasperation, shaking her head. She slides out of his arm and rolls her eyes, but coy mirth glitters in her green orbs.

All of the Marauders cram into the table, which is far too packed. The third year huffs angrily and slides out, going somewhere else to read her book. The others barely give her a passing glance and Hermione opens her mouth to apologize but decides against it.

Remus gives her a tired smile in greeting and Peter stares at her, squeaking when she turns to him. He's a chubby, blonde boy with a nervous energy to him. Hermione resists the urge to stab him in the eye with her fork. He had ruined Harry's life, not once, but _twice_ , and risking any more glances would be incredibly dangerous for her temper and his face. Her knuckles turn white, gripping her utensil.

None of this would have happened if it weren't for the bloody rat. She grinds her teeth absentmindedly.

"Good morning, ladies," Sirius Black says, winking at the five witches. A chorus of 'good mornings' echo around the table and everyone watches Lily and James expectantly, as if this is an everyday thing. Curious now, Hermione shoulders her attention to the couple.

"How was your night, love?" James asks eagerly, running a hand through his already messy hair.

"It was fine," Lily says shortly, taking a bite out of her waffles. Hermione is slightly surprised that the witch hasn't begun hexing James into the next life and is managing a polite conversation, and somewhat doubts that stories she's heard about James and Lily. The stories of Lily and her temper, a being by itself, used to be the talk at dinner in Grimmauld's place.

"Well, I had a great night too, thanks for asking," James says cheekily and the group sighs. "But I did stay up late, studying this particular charm."

"Humor me," Lily says blandly, glancing at her friends in amused annoyance. Sirius bounces on his heels, obviously knowing what is about to go down.

"Really, you two," Hermione says sharply, glancing at Sirius and James. "If you guys are planning to-"

"Oh, loosen up, Granger," Sirius says offhandedly, and she scowls. Her gaze flickers to Remus and Peter, who are fighting back the mirth in their faces.

There is an unabated expectancy, blooming at the table.

"Your wish is my command," James says, grinning broadly, before swishing his wand and saying, " _Orchideous_!" A bouquet of lilies sprout out of his wand, quite underwhelming from what everyone was expecting.

"Real creative with the flowers," Lily says dryly, rolling her eyes.

"Oh bloody hell, wrong movement." James shakes his head, before swishing his wand again. " _Orchideous_!" There's an instant pop in the entire Dining Hall and a collective gasp. Hermione stares down at her fork, which has been Transfigured into a bouquet of lilies. Her jaw drops at the bountifulness of the flower; there are lilies, _everywhere_.

Hair pins, book bags, goblets, the breakfast, Professor Dumbledore's hat-

The Dining Hall begins to freak out.

"What is going on?"

"Bloody hell! How is this-"

"Lilies? Oh bloody surprise, we all know who-"

"Our robes!" a particularly nasty looking Slytherin bellows. He's dressed in what seems to be flower petals, and he struggles to keep the flimsy petals from flying off of his body. A particular petal, which was covering a particularly important area, shifts at the sudden movement, revealing a particular appendage.

There's a collective gasp of horror.

Chaos breaks out as students begin to panic.

It doesn't help that Peeves (who barely makes appearances in the mornings) happens to be wide awake and holding a bucket of glitter, dumping it on the students' heads. She's glad that the poltergeist is avoiding the Marauder's vicinity and can't help shake her head at the connection.

Hermione spots a rather amusing Hufflepuff spitting a lily out of her mouth and Peter is red in the face and almost crying with laughter.

She's unsure whether to laugh or reprimand the Marauders. "You guys are going to get in _so_ much trouble," she says, lips twitching.

Right at that moment, Professor McGonagall comes marching to their side of the table. "Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall says loudly, her face red and her lips pursed in a white line. Her pointy witch hat has also been subject to the charm, and the lily on her head sways back and forth. "You come back here right this insta-"

James laughs and takes off running in the opposite direction. "I love you, Lily Flower!" Lily fumes, and the witches burst into giggles, but are quickly quelled by Professor McGonagall's look of murder.

"Oye! Mate!" Sirius calls after him, and hastily gets up to follow, but Professor McGonagall grabs him by his collar. "Um...Minny, I think we can talk this-"

Remus and Peter are smart enough to look confused as Professor McGonagall spews threats and drags the boy away.

* * *

"Double potions with Slytherin," Marlene moans, "Great way to start off the day, am I right?"

The five witches grumble their agreements as they make their way down to the Dungeons, munching on bits of toast. Breakfast had been cut short because of the 'Lily Incident', as the girls liked to call it, so the girls had stowed away strawberry cream cheese croissants and flasks of orange juice in their robes. Hermione, who had been invited by Lily to join her roommates, nods agreeably.

"Our teacher, Horace Slughorn, only favors Lily," Mary says, sticking her tongue out at the redhead. Mary had decided to keep her own editions from the Marauders' prank, so she sports two lilies pasted on her cheeks. "He's a true Slytherin, down to the heart. He favors those who would make use to him once graduation." Hermione bites back a 'I know' and nods along with the other girls.

"He's the wide man, am I right?"

The witches burst out in giggles and Lily manages a small laugh, despite being still annoyed at James.

The Potions class is dark and green torches light up the room, just like Hermione remembers it. Students are milling around in their seats, surveying the board for instructions.

"Mary, you can sit next to Hermione," Lily says quickly, shouldering her book bag. Lily petals are still stuck in her hair, but the witch hasn't noticed. Her and the other witches have the decency to not point it out; Lily's patience with James Potter is stretched far enough. "I'm going to partner up with Sev." She offers the girls an apologetic smile as she walks over to Severus, who sits alone. He sulkily glances at them and his eyes dart from side to side. The Gryffindor girls shake their heads.

An animate conversation between Snape and Lily instantly explodes, and with Lily's multiple scoffs, eyeballs, and exclamations, it's obvious who she is talking about. Snape nods vigorously, looking absolutely delighted with the subject.

"Honestly, I don't know what she sees in him," Marlene remarks coolly. "Him and his friends...nasty lot, involved with loads of Dark Magic."

"I'm sure there's a reason why she sticks around," Hermione replies mildly.

"Whatever that can be," Mary replies sourly, "He's absolutely nasty to us."

The conversation dies down as Professor Slughorn enters the classroom.

"Good morning, students! As we can see on the board, today we will be brewing the Invigoration Draught," Slughorn booms, surveying the students with interest, "Who would like to tell me its characteristics?"

Hermione's hand shoots up in the air like instinct. Slughorn's eyes immediately land on her and he smiles.

"And what is your name, miss?" he asks, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Can you perhaps be Ms. Granger?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione says shyly.

"Oh, I've heard all about you," Slughorn says, eyes twinkling, "Very curious, very curious indeed...So Ms. Granger, would you tell the class the characteristics of the Invigoration Draught?"

"The Invigoration Draught should be a pale grayish color when finished," she says quickly, the words leaving her mouth at rapid speed, "and have a mild taste of pomegranate juice, it being the main ingredient in the potion." She takes in a breath.

The class stares at her in stunned silence.

"Oho, xcellent, m'dear," Slughorn says, beaming, "Five points to Gryffindor!"

Her friends stare at her appraisingly and the Slytherin grumble, making snarky remarks beneath their breaths.

Hermione hears Snape mumble far too loudly (and obviously on purpose), "Half the class understood her with her _blabbering_ ," and the Slytherins snicker. She bites back a retort and turns her back on them.

"The instructions are on the board, class. You may begin brewing...now!"

Mary and Hermione talk idly, most of their conversation consisting of scrambling for ingredients (Mary) and asking for help (again, Mary).

Hermione works furiously, eager to make a good impression with Slughorn. She double-checks the instructions and makes precise measurements with the ingredients, aiming to make a perfect Invigoration Draught.

"Ms. Granger," Slughorn says, as he stops to watch her work. She looks up from her concentrated stupor and manages a small smile.

"Hello sir."

He peers down at her cauldron and chuckles. "Most excellent, Ms. Granger. It seems as if everything is going in order?"

"Nearly finished, sir," Hermione replies absentmindedly, concentrating on counting the number of clockwise and counterclockwise turns. Slughorn seems pleased as he passes along to Mary, before eyeing her bubbling cauldron and shaking his head.

"And Ms. Evans! Mr. Snape! Always together, I see," Slughorn booms, hurrying over to his favorite student. He rewards Lily with ten points in less than three minutes for 'representing and upholding inter-house relations' for simply sitting next to Snape. Mary clucks her tongue and watches them, miffed.

"I don't understand that man," she whispers, "It's as if- oh no! Bloody hell, I left my cauldron bubbling for far too long!"

* * *

The day goes along rather quickly, with Hermione acing through her classes which almost seem like review. Her friends, the group of Gryffindor girls, stare at her in a new light. Even Snape almost dropped his cauldron in shock when Slughorn rewarded Hermione with ten points for listing the ingredients to _Amortentia_ as if she were reciting a grocery list.

A pit drops to Hermione's stomach as the day passes along, and she finds herself anxiously glancing at the clock, which seems to be ticking faster and faster by the minute.

Finally, after the last class of Charms, Hermione sets her resolve to go to the library to meet Snape.

Harry, Dumbledore, Ron; they are all relying on her.

She stops the girls on their way to the common-room. "I'll see you guys later," Hermione says dully. "I have some business to attend to."

The girls glance at her, and Marlene raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. "Somewhere to be, Granger?" With Marlene, they have not yet surpassed enough familiarity to refer to one another by their first names.

"Yes," Hermione replies, before flipping her hair and waving to the girls, "I'm off to hell."

* * *

Hermione is slightly smug to see that Snape is at the library first, sitting in a corner by himself. He scribbles on a piece of parchment viciously, and the tip of his nose touches the paper.

She walks over quickly and takes a seat, clearing her throat.

Snape doesn't bother to acknowledge her (something she's suspected would happen), and continues to scrawl on his paper.

Hermione sits patiently, refusing to let his detachment irritate her. A few minutes later, she takes out her own piece of paper and begins to work on her Transfiguration essay.

Twenty minutes in, Hermione is too caught up in her essay to hear Snape clearing his throat to get her attention. Annoyed, he shoves his parchment in front of her, nearly knocking over her bottle of ink.

"Hey!" Hermione says shrilly, before slapping a hand over her mouth and looking around wildly. No one has noticed, thankfully. She stares at the parchment, full of scrawled instructions, from how to properly cast a vanishing spell to the instructions to make a shrinking potion. "And _what_ do you expect me to do with this?" Hermione hisses lowly, grabbing her ink bottle protectively.

"I've noticed that you're wandwork is quite shabby and your potion was quite mediocre," Snape replies with equal venom, narrowing his eyes. "Memorize this and practice it by our next meeting."

Hermione reddens, outraged. "Excuse me?" I'll have you know that Professor Slughorn commended _me_ also for having a perfect shrinking solution and that I received full points today in all of my classes."

"Oh please," Snape spits, "Your potion was overstirred, so that's why it won't mature fully. You can tell by the color and it's obvious that Slughorn overlooked it because of pure favoritism. So don't even _think_ that it's because of your talent and skill, because clearly, all you can do is parrot instructions." He sneers and gets up.

Hermione shakes it outrage and ignores the sting of the words. "Oh blood hell, if you think you can just _leave_ now, don't bother trying to stay in Hogwarts." Snape whirls around, and it's clear that she's hit the right spot.

"Don't _threaten_ me," Snape growls, "with expulsion just because you're a Gryffindor. You think Dumbledore can protect you? Trust me, he won't be watching your back every single second."

She doesn't back down on the threat, and instead stares up at his intense gaze. "All I'm trying to say is that if you're going to do this job, _do. it. right_." She grinds out her words and locks gazes with him poisonously.

He relents first, giving her a sharp scowl, before taking a seat back in front of her. His cloak billows out behind him dramatically every time he moves, something that Hermione might've snickered at, is it wasn't for the mood.

"Alright," she says in a quieter, more reasonable tone. "Thank you." She nearly chokes on the words, but forcibly reminds herself that this will never work out if they continue to go for each other's throats. He ignores her attempt at being polite and continues to glare at her. "Um...I was hoping that we could go over," her face turns red as she says this, feeling ashamed for even asking for help, "...um, the Window Shattering Charm."

 _Of course I already know how to do it; I've known how to do it since the fourth year but-_ , Hermione thinks, trying to stabilize her crumbling pride.

"The Window-Shattering Charm?" Snape says snidely, raising an eyebrow. "You won't have to know that until sixth year, _or_ unless you're in advanced Charms, so I doubt teaching you will help."

"I _am_ in Advanced Charms," Hermione says shrilly, with a glued smile on her face. Her fingers grip her quill tightly.

Snape shows more expression on his face than Hermione has ever seen (besides hate, malice, irritation, anger, etc). "Well, who would've known," he remarks, curling his lip.

Her quill snaps to pieces in her palm.

* * *

It's when the Gryffindor girls eye her warily that Hermione realizes that she's went to the wrong location. Blind by rage and a destroyed self-esteem, she had accidentally went to the Gryffindor common-room instead of her own, personal quarters, where she could have screamed her lungs out. Two hours of being belittled, taunted, and treated as if she were a child really pushed her to her limit.

"Hey 'Mione," Lily says carefully, eyeing the girl's red face and her low mumbles.

"Hello," Hermione says shortly, trying to muster a even tone. She looks around the common-room, which looked as though she hadn't went back in time. She blinks. "Oh bloody hell, I didn't even go to the right place because of that stupid slug," she mumbles furiously, I hope he gets mauled to death by a Hippogriff, oh, screw Dumbledore and his stupid plans." Mary stares at her with wide eyes and Marlene gives a off-handed shrug in response.

"Is everything okay?" Alice asks, her brow creasing.

"Yes, everything is _perfectly_ fine," she says sarcastically, throwing herself in a cushy chair and closing her eyes. "Oh, what's the point of going back to my quarters anyways? All I'm going to do there is mope and cry because I'm on this impossible mission, when I can be with Harry and Ron, stuffing our faces with p-peach pie-"

Her voice catches and the rage suddenly turns to angry tears. She's helpless to the unexpected flashbacks to the time where she had friends to laugh with, a family to send letters to, a place to stay, a life where she could just _be_. Tears blind her vision and she blinks furiously, covering her hands with her face.

She gets up from her seat and blindly moves to the exit, unable to deal with it anymore, when she bumps into someone.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, hurrying to get past them, but someone catches her arm. She looks up and sees James staring down at her, his gaze soft.

"Are you alright?" he says, and the warmth behind his words has her walls collapsing.

Tears stream down her face and she hastily reaches to wipe them roughly with the palm of her hand. "I-I'm alright," she hiccups, almost groaning at how desperate she sounds. She misses the urgent, 'help-me!' stare that he gives to the Marauders' and Lily, and awkwardly places his hand on her back. "Um...there, there."

"Why don't you come sit, love," Alice says softly, pulling Hermione by the hand, glaring furiously at the fourth-year Gryffindors who were trying to enter and ended up making fun of Hermione. She guides her to the sofa and Hermione takes a seat.

"Alright everyone!" Lily says authoritatively, "Up to your rooms. It's too late for you all to be loitering in the Common Room. Up, up, go!"

"It's only six!" a fourth year moans.

"Mind you," Remus says sternly, "Listen to your prefects and go up."

The younger Gryffindors grumble as they make their way up to their rooms but oblige anyways, and soon, the common-room is empty besides the Marauders' and Mary, Marlene, Alice, and Lily.

Hermione dabs her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. "Oh please, I'm so sorry. I-I should be out of your way now and-"

"Stop it," Lily says gently, reaching out to hold Hermione's hand. "You can't get rid of us that easily."

"What's wrong with Granger?" Sirius whispers to Mary, who shakes her head.

"She went somewhere but came back all stressed out," Marlene informs quietly, "and she started crying about some mission and these blokes named Harry and Ron." Sirius looks miffed but doesn't push it any further.

"Don't worry," he whispers loudly, "I got this." The boy steps up and opens his arms widely. "Oh Granger," Sirius says loudly, wrapping the girl in a big hug. Hermione stiffens and awkwardly falls into his grasp. "Don't cry over Robert and Henry, or whatever mission you're on. I'm sure it'll all work out positively _fine_ in the end!"

"Sirius," Remus hisses, narrowing his eyes, "Not exactly helping."

"Well I'm sorry, but I think I have far more experience than you," Sirius says haughtily, ignoring the puddle of tears accumlating on his dress-shirt. He pats her on the back in a soothing rhythm. "It's going to be alright love, ignore the others."

"Five points from Gryffindor for being absolutely crass, Mr. Black," Remus says warningly, and the girls burst out into giggles. Sirius's grasp on Hermione slackens, and the corner of Hermione's lips twitch. Their absolutely ridiculous jokes brighten the grey clouds over her head.

"You bloody prat! I'm in your house!"

"I know that!" Remus says indignantly.

Sirius growls, absentmindedly letting go of the girl as he reaches for his wand. He looks down at Hermione before wrapping his arms around her quickly, as if remembering the mess he holds in his arms. "We'll discuss this later," Sirius says darkly to Remus, patting Hermione's on the back absentmindedly. "I have business to attend to."

"Oh!" Hermione cries out, wriggling out of Sirius's grasp. "Even James was better than this!"

The room bursts into giggles and loud laughs and Sirius finally surrenders his stubborn pout.


	5. Chapter 5

*rolls eyes* I'm so sorry for being such a terrible updater

* * *

 _CHAPTER FIVE_

 _LIBRARY, 1975_

* * *

Hermione looks up to a scowling Severus Snape and resists the urge to expel a sigh.

He's been breathing down on her neck, staring down at her, and making condescending noises the entire period of time spent in their 'remedial sessions.'

"Here," she bites out, in her most controlled, civilized tone. She slides the instructions for a Pepper-up Potion across the desk. Snape snatches it up wordlessly and examines it, his eyes sharp and quick to find any mistake with which he can condemn her for. Seconds expel to minutes, and minutes to even longer minutes, and his dark eyes continue to search her paper as if it were containing the secret to life. She taps her foot impatiently, not bothering to mask her annoyance any longer. "Are you _done_ yet, or-"

"Will you shut your bloody mouth?" Snape growls, his eyes never leaving her detailed (but incorrect) instructions on how to properly brew a Pepper-up Potion. Hermione opens her mouth hotly to retort, but Snape finally looks up at her. He studies her coldly, calculating her with his thorough gaze.

His lips are pressed together firmly.

She suddenly feels oddly self-conscious, but matches his gaze with equal intensity.

"Granger," he says swiftly, conjuring a Potions' textbook with a quick swish of his wand. "Open to chapter regarding Pepper-up Potion."

She glowers at him before grudgingly flipping through the pages, and she stares up at him mutely, expectantly.

He curls his lip. "Are you just incredibly daft or are you stupid enough to act as if you are?" He slams her paper down. "Read what you wrote and compare it to the directions in the book. Is it a coincidence that your instructions mirror the opposite of what the real instructions should be?"

Her heart sinks and she scolds herself for being found out. She had put little to no effort while writing the instructions for the Pepper-up Potion, putting only the most absurd and most wrong instructions to pose for her stupidity. Perhaps her lack of effort was _too_ much effort in the end.

Hermione remains silent, staring down at the textbook. His dark gaze burns against her.

"I'm not sure exactly what you're accusing me of," says Hermione plainly, eyes glued to the desk.

"Every potion ingredient has a counter, something that reverses the effect of another ingredient. It's in its properties, to have an opposite, more or less," Snape snaps, "But _you_ should already know that, given your work!" He waves it around, before slamming it down.

"I wrote down what I thought was right, for your information," she lies coolly.

"Bloody hell!" he snarls, slamming his fist against the desk. "Tell me straight, you obnoxious excuse-for a witch, are you _purposefully_ trying to make mistakes? You seem to do perfectly fine in class and it's as if you're Imperiused to become a blithering dolt whenever you're with me!"

Hermione stands up immediately, eyes flashing. "Oh I've had _enough_ of you! You act like you're a bloody genius when you don't know a whit about anything! So stop trying to bite my head off for once in your life!"

"Excuse me? _You're_ the one in Remedial Classes right now!" he roars, spittle flying against her face. "And you have the nerve to say I don't know a whit about anything?!"

" _Because_ you don't know anything!" she shrieks. "Have you every considered the fact that their are bigger things out there, besides your inflated _head_?"

Snape stands up as well, lunging towards her. "You're hiding something from me, Granger, and I swear I've find out if that's the last thing I-"

"Hiding something from you?" she says derisively, letting out a cold laugh. "You know everything about me, more than I'd rather you did. What can I _possibly_ hide from-"

"You and your stupids friends are obviously trying to make a fool of me! Do you think I'm as dull and slow-witted as you and your Gryffindor friends?" Snape glowers. "You think I haven't noticed?!"

"Noticed what!" Hermione snarls, throwing up her hands in the air. "I'm not trying-"

"Then explain to me why your _friend_ has been spying on us this whole time!" he says furiously, turning and casting a black look at a furtive, red-faced Mary, who tries to hide behind her book. She sits in a inconspicuous table behind them, and Hermione blinks, it being the first time noticing her.

Hermione stammers, caught off-guard. "I have no bloody idea what she's doing! I suppose she's studying for O.W.L.S., like we should we doing!"

"You planned this with _Potter_ and _Black_ , didn't you?" he shouts, finger waving in her face. "I told you Granger, I am not someone you want to-"

"Enough!" a high-pitched voice shrieks, and Madam Pince comes thundering to their table, puce with rage. The entire library, which is usually quiet and soundless, sounds even more empty and wide. She glowers at the both of them, nearly hissing. Hermione pales, never have seen the librarian this outraged "You two are always in here causing a racket, making noise, and disturbing everyone who knows how to keep their mouths _shut_! I've had enough! I should have done this the minute the pair of you stepped into this sancutuary. Detention, the two of you, for a _week_!"

"Madam Pince!" Hermione whisper-shouts, wildly gesturing to Snape. "Snape is the one who provoked me first, and-"

She holds up a hand, quelling the girl immediately. "I do _not_ care Ms. Granger." She stalks off angrily.

Hermione struggles to wait till Madam Pince is out of hearing range to turn on Snape. "You can't bloody learn to shut your mouth, can you?" she says hotly, fingers dangerously clenching her wand. Offering the angry Slytherin a scalding look, she snatches up her book bag and storms out of the library.

"Hermione! Hermione!" a voice calls from behind her, but Hermione ignores it as she marches up the stairs. "Hermione! I know you hear me! I know you have plenty of questions, but-"

Hermione twirls on her heel angrily and faces the panting Mary MacDonald. Her pale skin is flushed and she clutches a stitch in her chest, breathing heavily. "Yes, a matter of fact, I do! What exactly were you doing in there, spying on me and Snape?" Hermione snaps.

"The girls and I were...curious!" Mary exclaims, taking a deep breath of air. "We thought you were sneaking off to meet with some...some _boy_! We were all so curious so they made me follow you to the library. But then I saw you sit down with Snape so I thought you were _Imperiused_ or something, I mean, that makes absolutely no sense at all! So I stayed a little longer and listened in...And Snape said something about Remedial Classes and Snape was making those awful remarks to you and you weren't exactly being pleasant with him, it just made no sense!"

"I know it makes no sense," Hermione says brusquely, "but it's none of your business."

"God, don't you think I know that, Hermione? But Hermione, why exactly are you meeting with _him_ for Remedial Lessons? Lily or Alice and I can tutor you! I mean, the Marauders would be way more helpful than that sallow-faced bat!" Mary shrilled, as if Hermione was missing a few screws in the head.

"I know that," Hermione replies coldly. "But as I said, it's none of your bloody business." She crosses her arms and turns to leave.

"Oh, you just had a row with Snape; don't turn on me because of him," Mary retorts dismissively and Hermione stops, realizing that the dark-haired girl is right. One row with Snape could possibly cost all of her friends.

Slowly, Hermione turns back around and tries to push her annoyance aside. She closes her eyes briefly and lets out a breath of air, before looking at the girl again. "Alright. Alright. It's true that I'm just angry because of Snape. But that doesn't excuse your behavior," she says firmly.

"And I'm sorry for that," Mary says sincerely. "But really Hermione, I'm not trying to be nosy. But _why_ him? All he does is belittle you; it's absolutely awful!"

"I know, Mary," she says softly, exhaling, "but it's not something I can explain."

"Alright," Mary says mildly, "I guess we all have those kind of situations."

"Thank you for understanding," Hermione replies in a considerably kinder tone, feeling a migraine begin to pound at her temples. She rubs her forehead; every argument with Snape adds to the impeding stress and chaos in her thoughts. "Please don't tell the girls or anyone about this."

"Trust me, I won't," Mary says warmly, before taking her arm, "I'll just say you've been meeting with Ajax Peterson." Hermione, having no clue of who Ajax might be, gives a thankful nod otherwise. "Now...let's go down to dinner. Fancy a butter beer?"

* * *

Dinner consists of watching Marlene McKinnon gorge herself with vanilla pudding.

"Really Marlene," Lily says exasperatedly, "Eating a bite of kidney pie won't make the inside of your mouth disgusting." To make a point, Lily takes a big spoonful into her mouth and exaggerates her relish.

"Oh, never you mind," Marlene says grouchily, playing with her 14th vanilla pudding, "This is Clarkson Davies we're talking about. Star Quidditch player, best kisser in the entire school..." She takes another spoonful of pudding and almost gags.

"Oh please," Alice says, shaking her head, "A snog session isn't a _mouth sampler_." The table bursts into sniggers and Hermione snorts into her clam chowder. Marlene growls.

"Say what you want," Marlene says irritably, "But I wouldn't want to snog someone tasting like kidney pie and caramelized onions. Positively _repulsive_." She takes another stab at her pudding and swallows it hastily.

Just then, the Marauders take a seat right next to the girls, eager to join the conversation. Peter, looking shy and nervous, takes a seat next to her and Hermione manages a glower off of her face.

"Snogging? Caramelized onions?" Sirius says eagerly, casting confused glances at the snickering, red-faced girls.

"It's nothing," Marlene says sweetly, before casting a quick _shut-your-mouths_ at the almost howling girls. "Where have you lot been?"

"Finishing something up," James says hastily, innocently glancing at them. "Hey Marlene. Mary. Hermione. Alice. _Evans_." The girls take a breath, allowing small giggles to escape them.

 _Evans_ casts a unimpressed glance at James. "I-I swear Potter, if you try another stupid prank..."

"You wound me, Evans," James says, pressing a hand against his chest.

"Leave the bloke alone," Sirius says lightly, casting a significantly dark look at Lily. "He spent all night practicing the spell for you." Lily reddens and sputters, unsure of what to say, and ends up shoveling a spoonful of mac-and-cheese into her mouth.

"So," Remus says quickly, steering the conversation, "who finished the Transfiguration homework? The last couple spells were bloody difficult..."

The conversation leads to the theory of Transfiguration and a highly interesting topic regarding Professor McGonagall's tartan robes that the Marauders swear to have seen. Easily, Hermione zones out of the conversation, all too familiar and repetitive with the conversations she's had back at home, and listens in amusedly.

"Hermione, Hermione!" a voice squeaks as a chubby finger pokes her shoulder repetitively.

She blinks out of her stupor and instantly recoils from the chubby, water-faced blonde boy who looks confused. "Don't touch me, _Wormtail_ ," Hermione says instantly, spitting his name like a curse, and her eyes slit with uncontrollable contempt.

Peter, who pouts and cowers next to James, stares at her in upset confusion. "W-What! I was just going to ask about the Potions homework. I didn't do anything..." Sirius raises his eyebrows at her and James and Remus looks equally confused. She feels Lily and the girls' eyes observe her after the awkward moment, but she drops her eyes.

"You shouldn't mess with her, Peter," Alice says, forcibly laughing, and the others join in awkwardly.

"Y-Yeah," Peter replies, obviously put down. His eyes glance at her furtively, as if she will lash out at him again, and he inches away from her.

Hermione tries in to reign in her temper, knowing that she shouldn't be acting like this. But the fact that this cowardly Gryffindor betrayed his best friends and ruined _her_ best friend's life repeats and repeats over in her head. Her actions towards him were irrepressible and automatic, and she knows they will continue to be so if they remain in contact. It is inevitable.

She sighs and gives Peter a tight smile that slides off pathetically the second she turns away from him.

"Well then," Sirius says lightly, giving Hermione a pointed glance, "I think we should all head up to the common-room now. Lots of...err, studying."

The crowd murmurs in agreement and Sirius casually grabs her elbow, leading her to the front of the group. He lowers his head towards her and raises an eyebrow. "What is with you with Wormtail?" James joins in next to Hermione, sandwiching her between the boys.

"What do you mean?" Hermione says, slightly defensive, "He just surprised me, I didn't mean anything personal." She absentmindedly grits her teeth.

"Sure you didn't," James says sarcastically, but he stares at her with an intense clarity, as if he can see right through her. "You always avoid him at breakfast and look like you want to stab someone when he says a word."

She stays silent for a couple of seconds, unable to meet their eyes.

"Alright fine," she relents, squirming under James's gaze, "He just...rubs off of me the wrong way." She flusters under their quick, defensive gazes. She hastily spins a lie in her head. "I-I saw him sneaking off somewhere and it didn't look like he wanted to get caught!"

"Well," James replies stiffly, obviously not satisfied with her excuse, "He's a good guy. I wouldn't be so quick to judge. I know he's not as...great as magic at us, but that's not an excuse." His tone turns cold near the end, and Hermione opens her mouth in her defense.

"In case you've forgotten, I'm a Muggleborn, James," she says hotly, "I don't care if he hadn't got an ounce of magic in him."

James seems to reasonably warm up to that. "Good to know. But still."

"He's a sensitive bloke, lay off him a bit, will you?" Sirius adds, and Hermione almost wilts in angry disappointment. If only they knew that their trust and loyalty would cost all of their lives.

"Oh, I don't-," she starts unhappily, but at that moment, a pack of third years run past them, knocking into them. "Oh!" She stumbles to the side and hastily grips Sirius, who glowers unhappily at the third-years.

"Ouch!" James says loudly, glaring at the group of Gryffindor third-years. "Those snotrags stepped on my shoes! I'll teach them a bloody lesson." He pulls his wands out of his robes and cockily leans his head back, focusing randomly at the group of third years. Hermione opens her mouth to stop him but James quickly says, " _Colovaria_!" A jet of red light flashes from his wand and hits a boy in the back of the head, turning him entirely bright yellow.

Hermione's eyes widen in shock. " _James_! That charm isn't supposed to be used for humans!" The group of third-years stop, confused, at the panicking bright-yellow boy. James waves in mock enthusiasm.

"We know, Hermione," Sirius says offhandedly, "We've tried it before. It'll just take him a week to turn back to normal." He snickers as the third-year puffs up his chest angrily and marches towards them. Their group behind them stops in confusion.

"What are we waiting for?" Alice says from behind, and Lily pushes her way to the front.

"What is going on?" Lily demands in a voice of authority, and her Prefect badge glints on her chest. Remus stumbles past the a group of people to stand next to her.

"This guy just hexed-!" the third-year starts squeakily, pointing somewhere near James, before suddenly beginning to dance uncontrollably. "W-what?! What's going on!?" He stares down at his legs which move with inhuman speed in confusion and begins to panic.

Hermione stares in shock; Sirius and James hadn't even raised their wands, or uttered a single word. So that meant they had _already_ practiced Non-Verbal spells and possibly mastered them. After all, they were the only capable culprits. She eyes them suspiciously, but they play their part well.

"I don't know what happened, Evans," James says earnestly, staring doe-eyedly at the suspicious redhead. "I think it was one of his blokes who hexed him, I _saw_ him do it. It's that one, right there!" He points at a cowering blonde-haired boy who looks as if he can't possibly hurt a fly. He squeaks and hides behind a confused-looking girl.

"Help me! He's lying!" the boy yowls, as his legs begin to tap-dance. "Someone stop this bloody curse!"

Lily casts a sharp look at James - who shrugs, bewildered - before hurrying to the third year.

"Here," Lily says kindly, "Let me take this hex off of you and I'll take you up to the Hospital Wing. Madam Promfrey will help you with your...erm...yellowness." She quickly mutters, " _Finite_ ," and the boy exhaustedly collapses on his rear. Mary and Alice crowd around the breathless boy and examine his yellow arms.

"See you later, Evans," James says casually. He offers her a two-fingered wave and saunters off with Sirius before he can get into any trouble. They hurry away from the group, doubled in laughter.

Hermione's mouth drops and she fumes as she hurries to follows after them. "James, Sirius, that was totally out of hand!" she hisses. "Why would you do that?"

"Had to teach the toerag a lesson," James says, yawning. He runs a hand through his hair. "Tiny fella, he stomped on my shoes."

She stares at him, stunned. "There was no point in doing that! You know that a simple excuse-me works too, right?" A flurry of emotions swirl in her chest as she stares at the careless, arrogant expressions on their faces.

"Where's the fun in that?" Sirius says, clearly confused. Hermione blinks.

"W-what?" she sputters. "You hexed a fellow student... _for fun_! And a non-verbal spell at that, too! You know that it's against school rules _and_ the curriculum? We don't learn that until sixth year!"

Sirius and James stare at her, wide-eyed, as if they realize that she's actually being serious.

"Calm down, Hermione," James says, raising his hands as a gesture of surrender. "We went easy on the bloke, we didn't mean any harm...It's just a good laugh, anyways!"

"He's _yellow_ , James!" she shrieks, throwing her hands in the air. "I don't see how that's funny at all! You two aren't _entitled_ or the kings of this school...you guys realize that right?" James nervously runs a hand through his hair, a gesture she found annoyingly endearing, but at the moment, it seems absolutely ridiculous and arrogant. "What is wrong with you two?"

"It's just a laugh, Hermione!" Sirius replies loudly, beginning to get annoyed. He shakes his head. "It's not like we bloody tossed him off the Astronomy Tower!"

"It's because it's not right!" Hermione shouts, absolutely outraged. She's reminded of all the times she's been hexed, teased, and bullied and can't help but see a shadow of her tormentors in James and Sirius. She stares into Harry's hazel-eyed face, her mind desperately trying to make sense of this. _This_ is Harry's father, the widely renown and respected martyr? Someone who hexed third-years for a careless mistake? Harry never had actually _harmed_ younger students; a bit of yelling, _yes_ , a scowl here and there, _yes_ , but hexing?

James Potter and Sirius Black were...cruel. Carelessly mean, egotistical, and arrogant.

Suddenly, the horrible accusations that Snape had hurled at Harry's dead father and his godfather seemed absolutely true. And having to realize that Harry's most-respected father figures were exactly as they were told, hurts even worse.

"I can't believe you two," she says hotly, and she pushes passed them forcefully, her mind whirring with the new epiphany.


	6. Chapter 6

i'm SO sorry i have a horrible case of writer's block and so i barely made it through this chapter

im SO sorry

* * *

 _CHAPTER SIX_

 _QUARTERS, 1975_

* * *

"'Mione," a rough voice says, and narrow fingers burrow under her blanket and gently prod at her sides. She shifts in her bed and lets out a soft groan, slowly waking up from her deep slumber. Something is so familiar about the voice. "Come on, Hermione, we don't have much time..." Hermione suddenly stills, heart thumping by the possibility of who this voice might belong to. In an instant, she's awake.

"Ron?" she whispers doubtfully, and opens her heavy eyes. Her vision is bleary, but she can make out a figure towering over her. Her heart stumbles over a beat.

"Yes, it's me," he replies impatiently, "Get up, 'Mione, we need to go." She hesitantly reaches over and grazes the line of his shoulder, and almost sobs when she feels its solidity. Ron _is_ here. He's real, he's solid, he's with her this very moment.

"I can't believe it," she says softly, and she gently touches the side his face. He leans into her touch instinctively and she's overcome by a swell of emotion. She's feels like weeping in joy. "I can't believe it..."

"Well," he mumbles, "I'm here right now. But really, 'Mione, we need to go."

"Just shut up a moment," she says breathlessly, and he obliges, covering his own hand over her's. His fingers are long and spindly and warm, and she tugs him towards her. He hesitantly lowers himself next to her and she buries her face into his neck. The weight shifts on her bed as she wraps herself around him.

Her senses are overrides with his smell of fresh laundry, citrus fruit, and something homely.

"I missed you," she says softly, and the tears on her eyelashes fall down her face. She cries softly in his embrace and he awkwardly brushes her hair back. "I mean...how did you even get here?"

"I just snuck up the staircase with my broom," he replies sheepishly. "Who knew it'd be this easy to go into the Girls' Dormitory?" He's trying to make her laugh and she's thankful for that, but...she doesn't sleep in the Girls' Dormitory.

She closes her eyes and enjoys the moment for just a second, before pulling away from him and peering up at his face.

Her eyes freeze and her jaw drops in horror.

His face is waxy and almost translucent, and his skin is stretched over his face tightly. Broken blood vessels and capillaries shine through. His eyes are empty sockets and his mouth is split into an empty, black smile. Scars and bloody wounds are frozen on his face.

"What's wrong, 'Mione?" he asks in his very-Ron voice, and she lets out a terrified scream that shatters her lungs.

Hermione jolts awake as the ground breaks under her. She's still screaming and her voice is hoarse, and hot tears are running down her face. She sits up quickly and wipes her tears, feeling throughly shaken and terrified.

The rising sun brings casts of orange and pink into her room and she tries to catch her breath.

Flashes of the nightmare play in her head and she stifles another scream.

She _cannot_ take this any more. She needs to get out of this place. She stumbles out of bed and pulls on her shoes, and storms out of her suite hurriedly. She doesn't know exactly where Professor Dumbledore would be at the wee hours of morning, but she finds herself rushing past sleepy portraits and stone walls.

She turns the corner sharply and runs into someone blindly, her limbs colliding with another body.

"I'm so sorry," she says quickly, and stiffens at the sight of Severus Snape's miffed face. She recoils from him instantly and he sneers at her.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he says coldly, eyes surveying her with calculated interest. He stares at her long t-shirt, her bare legs, and the teartracks on her face. His face remains impassive. She ignores the slight flush that appears on his face.

"I-I can say the same for you," she replies, trying to put some iron behind her voice, but it comes out soft and weak. She crosses her arms. "Now. If you'll excuse me." Severus mirrors her exactly and stands in front of her.

"I'm a prefect, Granger," he replies snidely, "and I'm doing morning patrols to catch students like _you_."

"Alright," she relents impatiently, sharp pains hitting her right when she breathes, "J-just give me my detention and I'll-" She stops at the intensity of his gaze and loses her breath momentarily. She averts her eyes. "I just need to see Dumbledore. Right now."

"Why?" he asks suspiciously. "Any appointments with the headmaster needs to be arranged, Granger. You can't just simply barge into his office."

"Watch me," Hermione replies stubbornly, and tries to walk around him again, only to result in him mirroring her. "Just bloody l-leave me alone!" Her voice has a desperate edge to it and she finds the terror growing inside of her more rapidly.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" he demands, and something about it doesn't sound as vicious as he wants it to be.

"I need the Headmaster!" she says shrilly. Her vision spins.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Snape sneers, and crosses his arms, "And another five more yelling at a figure of authority." Hermione almost collapses at the tremors running through her body. She shakes her head and turns the other direction, determined to go the long way around.

Something grabs her arm and pulls her back, and she finds herself in Severus's grasp.

"L-let me go," she snarls, sounding defeated and sluggish.

"I'm taking you to the Hospital Wing," he sneers, grasp tightening on her arm. "Whether you like it or not." He wrenches her along with him, and she can't help picture Ron's undead face and break into shivers. Her body convulses involuntarily. A few stairs later, he whirls around angrily. "What is up with you, seriously?"

Hermione tries hard not to collapse at his feet. "I-I don't know."

He calculates her coldly. A beat or two passes. He whips out his wand and murmurs a heating charm at her, and a warm tingle spreads through her body. She lets out a soft sigh and falters slightly.

Her knees buckle.

Suddenly, there's a swooping sensation and her stomach churns, and before she knows it, _she's in Snape's arms_. She lets out a soft shriek of surprise but Severus ignores it, eyes trained forward without a trace of emotion in his eyes. He's carrying her like a sack of potatoes, carelessly, but there's something about the gesture that makes Hermione's head spin. She swallows hard, trying to ignore the pounding in her chest, and involuntarily wraps her fingers around the collar of his robe.

He feels steady and warm and very much alive.

She stares up at the enchanted ceiling, looking into the galaxies, along with stars and the bright suns. If she tilts a little to the side, she can look up directly at Snape's impassive face. She tries exactly not to does this.

"Why are you being so nice?" she murmurs involuntarily, and blacks out before she can gauge a reaction.


End file.
